Place For Fear
by Shiv3r
Summary: After years of harsh beatings and inconsistent moves, Max slips into the habit of hiding behind the walls she built up around her heart, not daring to utter even the smallest of words. Suddenly, Max meets a mysterious boy who, just like her, refuses to talk. As the two blindly stumble into a love forbidden by their parents, a murderer lurks in the shadows, ready to strike. AH. FAX.
1. House Thirteen

**Hey, what's up you guys? This new story of mine is a fuller, better, and totally revised version of Accidentally in Love, a story I wrote on Max-Dan-Wiz. Basically, I was up reading the story a couple nights ago, and as much as I was still in love with the idea of the story, I was disgusted with my writing skills when I wrote it. And so now I am going to redo the story in hopes that I will love this version much, much better! And I'm also changing the plot a little bit since I noticed some MAJOR holes and I myself got disinterested in it after a while :3  
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**Enjoy, my readers. Simply, enjoy.

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**MPOV**

As the car pulled into the driveway of house number thirteen, I could already sense something different about this one. I stepped out of the car and was met with a mild chill that was nothing if not tolerable. The first couple leaves of autumn drifted down from a large oak in the front yard. I slammed the car door shut and stared at our new house.

Not only was this house more extravagant than all the others we've lived in, but it also held something I couldn't put my finger on. As I gave the house a scrutinizing gaze, I felt this rush of—hope, for lack of better word. There was something distinctly optimistic about this house that hadn't been in any of our other houses.

My sister Ella, who was only 8 months younger than me, came to stand beside me. "Beautiful, isn't it?" she commented.

I nodded. "I like this one."

"Yeah, me too." She looked at me. "Maybe it'll be better here."

I met her gaze, prying my eyes away from the house. "Maybe. But then again, maybe it'll just be the same."

Ella shrugged. "Come on, help unload the car."

I followed Ella to the trunk of the car where we took out a couple boxes and brought them inside the house. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside: Marble floor for the entrance way and hardwood and carpet throughout the rest; a grand staircase winding up to the same height as a crystal chandelier; huge windows with light streaming in.

My other sister, Angel, raced downstairs. "The upstairs is just as great, you guys!" She came to a stop in front of me, blue eyes shining bright with excitement and wonder. "Don't you just love it here, Max?"

I patted Angel's blond curls and smiled down at her. "It is looking to be pretty great, Ange."

She beamed at me, then Ella. Then our mother walked in and we all dropped our smiles.

My mother was not a pleasant woman. Sure, she had her moments of happiness and relaxation, but for the majority of the time, my mother was a ball of raging fury. She works around the clock, so she's never home to say good morning or good night to us, and maybe the long hours are what make her so unpleasant. Either way, you did not want to disobey her.

Over the years, my mother had grown a fondness towards physical punishment. Don't want to follow her rules? Fine, get repeatedly slapped in the face. I found this out the hard way when I had wanted to date this one boy a couple years ago. Ever since my mother had left my father, she was always warning me about men, always nagging me about how they're all scum, and always restricting me when it came to dating. When I had informed her that I would simple continuing dating Sam despite her orders, she walked right up to me, and smacked me straight across the face.

_"You will not be dating anyone, do you understand me?" Her voice rung high and clear, piercing my eardrums. When I didn't respond, she slapped me again. "You answer me when I ask you something!"_

_"Yes, ma'am," I said shakily. I could barely look her in the eyes, for fear of what they held. There was a wild, craziness to her I'd never seen before._

_She smacked me again for good measure. "Now get back up into your room and do not come back down until I'm ready to see your face again."_

I tried my best to please her from then on out, but it soon became clear to me that keeping my mother happy was one of the hardest tasks I've ever tried to complete in my life. Yet I still try every single day, just to see if there was any piece of her left. It has become difficult, though, now that she's started not only beating me and Ella, but hitting Angel, too; and she's _eight years old._ I always intervened when that happened, giving me twice the punishment.

But I digress. We all looked at my mother's worn-out looking face for about one second before all of us scurried outside so she wouldn't get a chance to yell at us for being 'lazy'. After we unpacked the car, our mother relieved us of working until the morning. All of us rushed upstairs, eager to see our new rooms. Ella and Angel chose the first ones they spotted whereas I walked down to the very end of the hallway, stopping at the last door on my right. I opened it slowly, anticipation and nervousness burning through me. I gasped when I walked inside.

The room itself was huge, yes, but that wasn't what caught my eye. Straight across from me was a grand balcony complete with a stone-pillared railing and French doors. Flooded with excitement, I rushed out onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh, crisp autumn air, my eyes tightly closed as I took in the feel of it all. I sighed in contempt, and opened my eyes to something I didn't expect to see.

Across from me, in the house next to mine, was a boy, also lounging on his balcony. My smile automatically dropped in the presence of someone else, and I just stared at him as he stared at me. Neither of us dared to move, so like deer caught in headlights, we just stood there looking at each other. And it wasn't a boring thing to do, if I do say so myself.

This boy, he was unlike anyone I had ever seen before. He had perfectly messy black hair with a pair of matching deep, dark brown eyes. His olive-toned skin bore his clothes, all in shades of black, well; his were muscles visible even from this distance. There was no doubt in my mind that his looks could win over any girl, but I had no plans to be wooed by this guy.

He was the first to break away when even I could hear his mother calling him from somewhere in the house. The voice, however, was too muffled for me to catch a name. Disappointed, I walked back inside my room, shutting the doors behind me just a few seconds after he shut his.

From then on out, I could not get my mystery neighbor off my mind.

* * *

Just as I had finished off two of my favorite chocolate chip cookies, there was an almost silent knock on the front door. I slowly placed the cookie that was heading towards my mouth down and took a couple of wary steps out of the kitchen. The person knocked again, louder this time. I went back in the kitchen and grabbed a wooden spoon before cautiously opening the front door.

On our front step stood a messed-up-looking family. There was a pristine mother with a fake smile plastered to her face, a boy around my age with strawberry-blond hair, a young boy about the age of 11 who, oddly enough, looked like the boy version of Angel, then there was a girl the same age as the Angel-look-alike with mocha skin and a curly mass of brown hair. And just behind the entire group, I caught the faintest glimpse of the boy I saw earlier that day. His black hair shone in the setting sun and his dark brown eyes seemed to read my soul. I pulled my gaze away from him and looked at his mother expectantly.

"Hi there! We're your new neighbors, and we were wondering if maybe you'd like to come over and have some drinks or something?" She still beamed that perfect smile.

After a moment's thought, I held a single finger up before I turned and started up the stairs.

My mother's room was on the third floor, making my already-tired legs even more tired as I climbed the staircase to the house's top level. It was easy to find her—she was standing in the middle of the hall glaring at a scratch the previous owners left on the wall. I swallowed my fear of her answer and spoke not much over a whisper.

"Mom?"

She irritably looked over at me. "Yes, what is?"

"Our new neighbors want to know if we would like to go over to their house."

She took a step towards me, eyes narrowing. "Is she married? Got a boyfriend?"

"No, mom, not that I saw."

"Does she have any sons?"

I hesitated. "Three."

My mother rapidly shook her head. "No. No. Absolutely not."

Ella and Angel joined us at that moment, no doubt wondering why I willing spoke to my mother.

Ella spoke first. "What's going on?"

Mother looked at me in disgust. "You sister thought it'd be a good idea to go over to the neighbor's house."

Angel's face lit up and Ella slowly started to smile. "I think that'd be great," Ella said.

"Well no one asked you for your bloody opinion," my mom snapped. Ella flinched slightly. Angel hid halfway behind her.

I took a step towards my mom. "Don't talk to them like that!"

Swinging around, a hard hand went across my face in a blur. My head snapped to the side. The impact numbed the left side of my face. I cast my eyes downward and took two steps back, not saying anything else.

"How dare you talk back to me!" I could feel her stare burning holes into my head. "I am your _mother_."

No one said anything. We were all far too afraid to move. So we just stood there, frozen, awaiting our dismissal. My heart dropped at the thought of not meeting our neighbors. For the first time in my life, I thought perhaps I'd get to live like a normal teenage girl, my biggest problem being the blemish that sprouted on my forehead. But alas, this time would be no different for us.

"All of you go downstairs," she barked. "I've decided to meet the neighbors, but not because of any of your whining."

"Yes ma'am," we all mumbled as we walked slowly down the stairs, mother in tow.

My mother and siblings played the role of normal people when we reached the bottom of the stairs. I did not lift my head still, even as we walked across the lawn to the neighbor's home. I stayed at least four paces behind everyone at all times. I could feel the left side of my face sting and tingle and knew that it would soon be an angry red color that I would have to have Ella tend to when we got back home. Or maybe the neighbors would give me some ice. I could make up a story; say that I fell while unpacking today. What if I just told them the truth? What if I came right out and said, "My mother beats my sisters and I"—

"Max?"

I snapped my head up, and Ella's concerned face stared back at me. "You okay?"

Somehow we had ended up in the neighbor's living room. It was all crisp and clean and very, very white. Our parents had gone in the kitchen, leaving all the kids awkwardly standing there. Everyone was staring at me.

I nodded at Ella, preferring not to speak in front of the strangers. The strawberry blond cleared his throat.

"Why don't you all take a seat?" he suggested.

Everyone sat down: one family on one sofa, the other on another sofa. The ticking of a grandfather clock was the only sound. I stared at my hands clasped in my lap. Suddenly, the mocha-colored girl spoke up.

"What happened to your face?" she asked.

Shocked, I raised my head to look at her, eyes wide. Beside me, Ella fidgeted with a piece of hair, racking her brain for an answer since she knew I would not talk. The girl continued to stare at me. She touched the left side of her face gently.

"It's all red."

"Uh—uh—uh," Ella stuttered, tripping over the words as she said them. "Well, uh, today—Max—tripped carrying a box to her room, and, uh, her face skidded against the—carpet as she—fell?" It ended like a question and I gave her a look like, "_Smooth_."

Ella shrugged back at me, abashed, and we both looked back at the girl. She narrowed her eyes in thought before shaking her head.

"No, that's not true. Her face wasn't red when she opened the door for us."

Damn, that girl had a memory on her. I looked at Ella who smiled fakely at the girl.

"You must have just not seen it." Ella hurried on before the girl could protest. "In any case, I should probably treat it. Got a first aid's kit? Some ice?"

Giving up for now, the girl nodded. "I'll be right back."

She disappeared in the kitchen for a few minutes and came back with a bag of ice wrapped in a thin rag.

"Follow me."

Ella and I got up and followed the girl upstairs and to the right. The first door was a bathroom in which she held the door open to while handing Ella the ice bag.

"The first aid kit is in the bottom cabinet. Feel free to use whatever." Halfway out the door, she paused and said, "By the way, I'm Nudge." Then she left.

When we were sure she was gone, Ella sat me down on the toilet seat and rummaged around the cabinets for the first aid kit. Finally finding one, she took it out and handed me the ice.

"Took the rag off; it'll just irritate the burn," she instructed.

I did as she said and let the blue rag fall to the floor. Grateful for something to numb the sting, I held the ice to my left cheek and watched as Ella dug the kit, concentration creasing her forehead. I didn't say anything, but focused on the cool feeling of the ice on hot skin. A moan almost escaped my lips. After a few minutes, Ella abandoned the sink and kit to examine my cheek, grabbing it gently and turning it towards her.

"Hmm," she murmured. "I don't think we can do much else outside of letting you keep something cold on it for a while."

Picking up the rag off the floor, Ella ran it under icy water for about a minute or so, letting it get as cold as possible before placing it on my cheek.

"Now stay," she ordered.

Although I obeyed Ella's demands, I was not happy about it. The towel was, in fact, irritating my cheek so I dropped it back on the floor. The ice felt so incredibly good on my skin and I closed my eyes, leaning back on the toilet seat. I had just started to drift off when Ella reopened the door with some makeup in her hand. I arched an eyebrow.

"Concealer to hide the redness a bit more. Ms. Xavier isn't your exact tone, so I'm going to have to put it all over you," she warned.

I sighed. "If you must."

Ella placed some of the gunk on my face as I tried to repress another frustrated sigh.

After around twenty or so minutes being locked in a bathroom, I was glad to be out in the open again. Ella and I returned to our respective white couch downstairs, interrupting a small conversation going on. Nudge smiled at us.

"Oh, good! You're face isn't red anymore! I was really beginning to worry because, well, I know I don't know you and all, but no one deserves to be hurt or anything. Like how this puppy was beat to death one day. I saw it on the news and it made me really depressed."

I forced down a shudder as I thought of being beat. I was lucky that time; I had escaped with only a slap. But I knew how bad the punishments could be, and I wondered vaguely if I would ever get beat to death. Would Ella and Angel come home one day to find my mother standing over my cold, bloody, unresponsive body?

I shook the thought from my head and tried to focus on the situation at hand. Tentatively, I gave Nudge a slight smile with just the corners of my mouth moving up ever-so-slightly before I settled myself deeper into the couch. At that moment I wished I was alone so that I could just curl up and fall asleep. The day was starting to put a strain on me.

Everyone was quiet again. We shifted uncomfortably in our seats until the strawberry blond cleared his throat and looked at us. He stretched his hand out across the space that separated us and smiled a dazzling smile.

"I'm Iggy." He locked eyes with Ella. "And you are?"

Blushing, Ella took his hand. "Ella."

Iggy brought her hand to his mouth, placing a light kiss on it. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Ella blushed again and looked away as Iggy returned her hand. My mouth twitched as I saw how happy and attractive this one stranger made my sister feel. It was nice to know she could be happy in this crappy lifestyle in which we lived.

Iggy looked at me next. "And you?"

I stared at him for a second, my eyes narrowing a bit in thought. Should I tell him my name or not? It was a nagging question I was met with every time we moved to a new place; To tell who are or just remain nothing.

An elbow dug itself into my side. I snapped my head to the side and glared at Ella. She gave me a meaningful look and I sighed, helpless. No way would I want to mess up this one possible relationship for Ella. Turning back at Iggy who was watching the scene with curiosity in his eyes, I opened my mouth and spoke.

"Max."

I felt Ella relax at my side, but I would get her back for this. Everyone's eyebrows rose in the other family at the sound of my voice. I sent glares, but quickly reminded myself that this was a chance for Ella to be happy. So I huffed, my bangs flying up a bit from the air, and leaned farther into the couch.

_Won't open _my _mouth ever again._

It was then that it happened.

* * *

**Sorry for the cliffy! But it was needed (; Sorry if it was a little boring or whatever, I promise things will pick up soon. So, yeah, review and stuff. I'm looking forward to hearing back from you guys! **

**~Shiver**


	2. Markers and Stitches

**So, I'll answer some questions since I know the first chapter was probably a bit confusing.**

**Jippyliop—Max doesn't want to tell the family her name because she's afraid of trust. And that will be explained further as the story continues :)**

**Nofreakingway—Yes, they are all human :)**

**GrimmSistah—Shhh, don't tell them where I got it from! XD**

**Happy Late Easter :)**

* * *

Everything seemed to happen as if I was watching a movie that I just so happened to star in. My mother burst from the kitchen, a stony look on her face as she fixated her glare on our faces. Mrs. Xavier was close to follow, the most enraged look I had ever seen masking her Barbie smile. I saw my mom's mouth form words, seeming to yell, but my ears failed to hear. Everything was drowned out as my thoughts rang loud and clear through my head.

_Not again, not again, not again, not again, not again. _

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped the sofa tightly with both hands, and, with a deep breath, flung open my eyes. Every word, sound, and cry flooded into my eardrums.

"Maximum Lorraine Ride, get you and your siblings out of this hell house _right now_!"

"Mom, please don't make us leave!"

"What's happening?"

"Kids, upstairs now! I want the neighbors out of this house!"

"Iggy, I'm scared! What's going on?"

"Hell if I know."

My mom came up to me and grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look deep into her stone-like eyes. That one look said it all. I would never have a normal life, I would never live without fear, and I would always be the girl who came and went without notice and without say.

Swiftly, I took Angel and Ella by the arm and dragged them away from the chaos. My fingers dug into the soft flesh of their skin, but I barely noticed. I was too caught up, too lost, too _afraid_.

We made it to the house feet ahead of my mother. With rushed words, I told them to go upstairs and lock themselves in their rooms. Fear shone in their eyes, but they heeded my words and hurried up the stairs. Seconds later I heard a door slam and the soft, soft click of the lock. I relaxed slightly; they were safe.

I heard her breathing before I saw her. She was panting heavily, and when she walked through the door, her hair was askew, shirt rumpled, and eyes cold. It looked like she just got out of a bar fight. Slow paced steps were taken towards me, and I backed up until I hit the large railing of the stairs. The wood dug into my back, though I simply blocked it out. Better to focus on the more important things that were about to beat the living daylights out of me.

"I told you not to go over there." She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I _knew _they were evil. Evil, evil seeds! They'd have cursed us all if I hadn't gotten you out of there." A step towards me. A gulp from me. "And it was _all you fault_."

_Smack._

A numbing sensation spread right across the same spot, the same cheek, as before. The coverup and blush rubbed off on mom's hand. She stared at it with confusion, then looked at me with bright fury in her eyes. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she took another step towards me.

"Are you trying to be a slut?" she screamed in my face. "You're such a whore! You wear makeup when you want a boy to notice you. And when a boy notices you," she got right up in my face, "he gets in your pants. Is that what you want, Max? A little joy ride? Huh? Are you really that much of a slut?"

Her fingers sought out a vice-like grip around my wrist. With shocking force, she dragged me up the stairs. I stumbled a little bit, trying to keep up. Flipping a light switch on, my mom dropped me cruelly onto the toilet seat in the bathroom. From under the cabinet, she grabbed an old, scruffy rag, wetted it with steaming hot water, and brought it over to my face.

"I will not have my daughter embarrass me by being some floozie."

No mercy showed on the horizon as my mother brought the rag down on my face and began to scrub with all her might. The water soaked into the rag itself was scolding hot. Pair it with the intense friction my mom created by digging the rag into my skin made my face feel like it was on fire. Scrub, scrub, scrub. I bit my lip with a passion, trying not to cry out in pain. Scrub, scrub, scrub. It was almost unbearable.

Then it stopped.

And began a new terror.

She wound up the towel, then lashed out blindly at me. The end of the towel whipped me all over my body over and over again. She grunted as she flicked her wrist and unleashed the pain on my body. When that wasn't enough, she took things off the counter and threw them at me. A small makeup mirror, a bar of soap, bottle of mouthwash, tooth-brush holder. Her eyes focused in on the cracked mirror now laying on the dented floor. A long, jagged piece of glass lay on the floor next to it. With horror, I realized what was to happen next.

My mother bent, picked up the glass, studied it a second, then turned to me, still no emotion present on her face. She gently glided the shard against my neck, along my collarbone, down my arm. With a wicked smile that was gone in a flash, she pressed the glass into the flesh of my bicep. Lightly at first; then harder, with muscle, and a will to scar.

I kept my mouth clamped with much difficulty. My jaw quivered and tears pricked in my eyes as I wished, I _prayed,_ it would be over soon. The glass dug deeper in. I could feel it getting close to cutting muscle. I shut my eyes will all my might, focused on the fact that it was me sitting here and not fragile Ella or innocent, fearful Angel.

The glass was lifted from my arm and I let out a tiny gasp of air. My eyes flung open. My mom threw the piece of glass in the sink. It _tink_ed around for a second before settling. She wiped her hands on her jeans, then left without another word.

After mustering up enough courage, I looked down at my arm. Blood flowed out in tiny, scarlet red trails. It was deep, it was jagged, and it was messy. Ella would have to treat it as soon as possible. Grabbing a new towel, I pressed into my arm and forced myself to walk down to Ella's room. No one was there, so I tried Angel's room. Ella already had her nurse-in-trainee kit in her hands. She blocked Angel from seeing my wound, closed the door, then led me to the scene of the crime where I would hopefully get patched up.

I heard Ella gasp after she finally took full examination of the gash. The tiny rag was almost all drenched in blood, and I could feel rivulets of the red stuff trailing down my arm. I was swaying on the toilet seat, my eyes suddenly seeming extremely heavy. Ella's gentle fingers prodded around the cut, a look of concentration on her face.

"How bad is it?" I asked shakily. I didn't want to look at the now uncovered wound.

"It isn't good, Max. I think you need to be taken to a hospital."

I laughed slightly. "Nice joke, El. Now, how bad is it really?"

"I'm not joking, Max. This cut is beyond my capabilities. You need stitches."

That jolted me. I sat up pin-needle straight, my eyes wide with fear. Hospitals, needles, screaming, pain, antiseptics. I shuddered and shut my eyes, trying to repress all those memories I never wanted to relive. But the words were already said and the pictures had already started flooding into my mind.

It was a couple months after my mother had started beating me. I was twelve, Ella matching me in a couple months. Ella and I walked up to the front desk where a nice lady with a bird-like frame was perched flipping through some documents. She smiled down at us.

"What can I do for you ladies?" She had a nice voice, sweet and caring. So much unlike my mother's.

Without words, I lifted up the hem of my shirt where a purple bruise was already blossoming on my stomach. The woman gasped and came around her desk to me. She kneeled down to my height and looked me in the eyes.

"_Honey, who did this to you?"_

_Neither of us spoke. We couldn't say anything, or we'd end up in a foster home, along with our baby sister Angel. I just wanted to be taken care of for once in my life._

_Sighing, the woman went back to her desk and dialed a number, speaking softly into the phone. Soon another woman came and took both of us by the hand. She led us into a small white room where she prodded my bruise with her soft, cold hands. _

"_Don't worry, dear, you'll be alright. Just a small bruise." She smiled at me and reached into a cabinet above her head. After pulling out a sucker, she came back over to me and bent down a little to reach my eyes. "I have this lollipop just for you, dear. And you can have it if you just tell me who did this to you."_

_I knew I had not yet 'developed', but really? Candy bribes were for five-year-olds. I narrowed my eyes at the orange circle and refused to open my mouth. The doctor sighed and left the room for a second. After an awkward moment of silence, Ella got up and went over to the desk in the room, where the doctor's laptop, clipboard, and a few books were siting. Ella ran her hand over the sleek cover of one of the books._

"_What is it?" I asked._

"_Doctor books. Stuff they read in college." She leaned closer. "This one is about simple stuff, like cuts and bruises and stuff."_

_I cocked my head to the side. "Are you interested in that kind of stuff?"_

_She looked at me with a woeful smile. "Yeah, I guess. I think it'd be great to care for someone, help give someone an extra chance at life."_

_I didn't say anything. Ella looked back at the books, and I sat there on the table watching her. There was a wistful look in her eye as she flipped through the book. It was then that I made a decision. _

"_Listen, El. We can't stay here and wait for the doctor to come back. When she does, she'll demand to know everything about us. Including mom." Ella's eyes darkened. "We can't let them find out. I know that now. And, look, she gave me a clean bill of health, so there's really no reason to stay here." I hopped down and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Come on."_

_There were two seconds where nothing happened. Then, determined, Ella picked up the book she was admiring and dropped it in her bag. I stared at her, shocked._

"_Ell-"_

"_Look," she cut me off, her eyes stern. "If we can't come to the hospital anymore, I'll have to take care of us. This book can more than provide us the tools for me to do that."_

_We locked eyes for a moment before I nodded slowly. Ella was right—we needed something that would give us protection since we could never rely on hospitals again. Ella yanked open the door and made sure the hallway was clear. Once she was sure, she waved me over and we both snuck out of the room and ran down the hallway as quiet as we could. When we reached the secretary's desk, Ella and I pulled the hoods of our sweatshirts up and ducked our heads low. We escaped the first pair of doors without hassle. Smiling, we high-fived each other, basking in our successful escape. When we turned back to the doors, our mother was standing there._

_Her face was cold and harsh; her fists were clenched tight at her sides. When she stepped towards us, the automatic doors opened out of her warpath. _

Thanks a lot doors,_ I thought dryly._

_Our mother stopped in front of us and grabbed us roughly by the shoulders. "Wrong move," she said._

_Taking each of us by the wrist, she dragged us into the car and drove us off onto a secluded, hardly-used rode. She pulled over to the shoulder and ordered us to get out. Then she began to beat us…._

"Max. Max. Max!"

I pulled myself out from memory lane long enough to focus on what Ella was saying. Her face was still a mask of seriousness and complete worry. She actually looked a little scared.

"Yeah?"

"I have to take you to the hospital!"

"Oh, and what do you suggest I tell them?" I asked practically.

She shrugged and adverted her eyes. "I don't know, say that me and you were screwing around and I pushed you through a window accidentally. I'll go downstairs right now and smash it."

"What—No!"

"Why not?"

"Mom would literally kill us!"

"So we'll duct tape it before she notices!"

"Oh, yeah, cause a window that used to be glass and is now covered in duct tape is completely not noticeable."

"I don't think it would be."

"Ella!" I grasped her hands. They were sticky with my own blood. "A hospital is not an option now. So you'll have to do what you can, and do it fast."

She hesitated a moment before nodding, getting up, and leaving the bathroom. I sat there, leaning against the back of the toilet and trying not to concentrate on how tired I was feeling. Instead, I comforted myself with the knowledge that Ella was going to come back soon and mend to my former glory.

* * *

Stitches weren't something I handled well.

After setting all of her supplies out on the counter, stolen medical book nearby, Ella began to get to work. She got a new towel and wetted it before gently cleaning out what she could from and around my wound. Then she gave me fresh-from-the-freezer ice cubs and instructed me to press them to my gash until it was numb. This, my friends, is a task for the patient. I'm not very patient.

While I waited for my arm to go numb, I resorted to fixing an intense stare on Ella. She flew around the bathroom, eyebrows knitted together, mouth set in a straight line. She lit a candle, arranged and rearranged needles on the counter, and tested our rubbing alcohol amongst other things. I could already tell she was going to be a nurse no one would forget.

Absently, I reached down for more ice after I felt my bare cut. My fingers brushed inside it, the feeling making me gag. I pushed it down and stared at a dent in the wall as I waited for my arm to get numb.

A minute or two passed when Ella asked, "You numb yet?"

I brought my attention back to my arm and noticed that it was, in fact, numbed. I nodded vigorously at her and her lips tightened even more. She nodded to confirm that she understood me and picked up a medium-sized needle. She then picked up a thread and dipped it in the open bottle of rubbing alcohol. Threading it through the needle, she cautiously walked over to me and sat down in a chair she had brought in from her room. She looked me dead in the eyes, gaze never wavering.

"This is going to hurt slightly, even with the numbness. So, just—" she shut her eyes for a minute before reopening them, more composed now. "Just try not to shout."

Gulping, I nodded and averted my eyes so I wouldn't know when she was going to put in the needle.

"Here goes nothing," I heard her mumble.

My pulse sped up a few notches and I gripped the toilet seat with my free hand as Ella gripped my arm gently and brought it closer to her.

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

Two hours later, it was dark out and most of the house was asleep. Ella and I were the last one up, last time I checked. Walking out to my balcony, I sat down at the edge and slid my legs through two gaps between columns. I let the sandals I put on earlier to avoid glass in my feet fall to the browning grass below. The breeze caressed my bare feet and a small, barely-there smile touched my lips despite how cold it was outside. I slid the shoulder of y warm cardigan down far enough to see the crudely stitched gash on my arm. The touch of them against my fingers made me shudder.

For a while I just sat there, legs swinging loosely, staring at my stitches and wondering how my mother had gotten so crazy. Deep down, I knew it was technically my father's fault, but I couldn't bring myself to hate him. After all, my mother didn't have to let herself go like she did. She could have coped with the divorce like a normal person. My hand curled into a fist. Then I wouldn't have these stitches; I wouldn't have this fear' I wouldn't have this boiling hatred.

I wouldn't have this poor excuse for a life.

My head snapped up at the sound of a door banging, fearing it was my mother waking up. Instead, I found the boy from next door coming out on his own balcony. I could tell by his stance that he was angry and just wanted some alone time. Quickly covering up y wound so he wouldn't see, I made to get up. His hand went up in the universal sign of "Stop." I froze and he shook his head, so I settled back down in my original spot. Holding up a finger, he went into his room. Curious, I cocked my head to the side and strained to see into his room. No dice. He reappeared with two white boards and markers. He crooks a finger at me, and I stand myself up. Getting close to the edge, he tossed the white board into the air. It flipped several ties before I clumsily caught it between my palms. The marker came next. I arched an eyebrow at him, and he bent to scribble something down. He held up his board.

_You don't talk?_

Catching on, I wrote back, **No.**

_Neither do I. You have a reason?_

**Yes.**

_Want to tell me?_

**No.**

I noticed his lips twitch slightly and I crooked a corner of my mouth up.

**How bout yourself?**

Yes.

**Want to tell **_**me**_**? **

The amusement on his face grew and he wrote, _No_.

**Fair enough.**

"Max!"

I turned around and saw Ella standing in my doorway. _Mom's awake_ she mouthed. My eyes popped out of my head, and I motioned for her to go back to her room. She hesitated, worry plain on her face, but soon left me to fend for myself.

Rushing, I scrawled **I need to go **on the board and threw it across to my neighbor's balcony. Surprised, he fumbled with it for a second before catching it. I didn't wait to see if he caught the marker; I just chucked it and ran inside, closing the doors behind me. My mother opened my door just as I switched off my light and rested my head on the pillow. Her presence lingered for a moment—then the soft click of door had me expelling my breath. Rolling over, I pressed a clammy hand to my forehead and shut my eyes for real. The scars on my arms were suddenly _very_ noticeable. I went to sleep praying all my scars and bruises would be gone in the morning.

* * *

**R&R? :)**


	3. First Day Jitters

**Hello my lovely readers :) Guess what time it is? Reviews Time!**

**oxlifexo—I actually got the board part from that music video. Yes, I'm such a clever author ;) **

**GrimmSistah—You'll get your Fang dosage soon enough xD**

**Anonymous-... Go away Elizabeth. xD jk, Ily 3**

**Serenaisbestezrq387—I'm planning on three books to be in the little fanfictorial series of mine :D So yeah, lots of twists and stuff. It'll definitely keep you interested :)**

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend Selena. Keep your head held high; he doesn't deserve you.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

Bridgewater High was a menacing building that looked every bit like a jail as it did like an educational facility. Ella and I exchanged glances as we gazed up at our new school, nerves settling into a cold stone in my stomach.

"We shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Max," Ella pointed out to me.

I gave her a look. "You're right, Ella. I'm sure that when we get inside, they'll serves us chocolate-chip cookies, instantly love us, and serve us to our every whim."

She returned the look with a similar one of her own. "Your sarcasm just brightens up my day."

"Glad to help."

Without another word, I began to walk towards the school. Ella's light footsteps sounded on the hard asphalt of the parking lot, and she soon fell back into step beside me. I resumed my usual silence and tried not to concentrate on the looks I was getting. That was one thing I never got used to: The feeling of so many eyes turning towards you as they immediately begin to pin-point your social status and judge you before they even began to _think_ of actually getting to know you.

Ella fidgeted beside me and I gave her hand a squeeze before yanking open the door to the main office. We reluctantly sauntered inside to greet a none-to-cheery middle-aged secretary glaring at us behind her thin glasses.

"Ms. Ride? Ms. Martinez?" the secretary asked monotonically.

"Yes," Ella answered. I only nodded.

The secretary pushed some papers forward on her desk and eyed them lazily. "These are your schedules and maps. We have paired each of you to match the schedule of a student. This student will be your go-to for any questions and will help you find your way to your classes. If you have any issues with your guide, please notify a teacher or other head of authority here. We hope you enjoy Bridgeview."

Tentatively, Ella and I stepped forward and picked up the sheets the woman had pushed at us and looked back at her for further direction.

She sighed deeply before picking up the phone, punching in a number, and asking for two students to come down. After she hung up, she faced us again.

"You can just take a seat behind you while you wait for your guides to come." Then she turned back to her computer and never bothered with us again.

Ella and I did the only thing we could do and heeded the woman's advice by sitting in the uncomfortable black chairs behind us. The plastic dug into my back unpleasantly; the cold of the arm rests seeped through my thin shirt and into my skin. Goosebumps prickled all over me.

To distract myself, I crooked a finger at Ella, silently asking for her schedule. Comparing it with mine, I saw that we had a few classes together, but for the majority, we were on our own. I sighed heavily and handed it back to her before slumping low in my seat. There was nothing left to do but sit here and wait and wonder how in hell I was going to survive the rest of the year at this place.

Just then, two boys entered the office. Both of which I immediately recognized. A wave of relief washed over me.

Iggy and the dark-haired boy from last night dragged themselves into the office, their eyes settling on us. Iggy broke into a grin, while the other boy remained impassive, staring at me with only the slightest hint of surprise in his eyes. I sensed Ella straighten up beside me, all energy focused towards Iggy.

"Fancy meeting you here," Iggy said, casually leaning against a wall.

Ella beamed. "Yeah, what are the odds, right?" She dimmed slightly and cast her eyes downward. "Oh, and, uhm, sorry about last week. You know how moms get," she added nonchalantly.

Iggy shrugged. "Hey, let's not let what happened between our parents decide the future between us. It's all good." Ella lit up again and nodded. "Now," he continued, clapping his hands together. "Who has who? Schedules?"

Ella plucked the schedule out of my hand and waved them at Iggy, who took his time peeling himself off the wall to come examine them.

"Alright, let's see," he murmured. "Uhm, Max, it looks like you're going with Fang over there; and Ella, you're coming with me."

"Perfect," Ella commented, not even trying to hide her pleasure.

I unfolded my hand out to Iggy, who returned my schedule. He then held his arm out for Ella, who gladly linked arms with him before taking off, a slow blush creeping up both of their cheeks. The office door shut quietly, its back draft fluttering my hair and caressing my face. I turned to face Fang.

His eyes captured my stare and he cocked his head to the side. I picked up my hand in a sort of half-wave. A corner of his mouth crooked up for a split second and I knew that for whatever reason, the two of us were going to be great friends. We just sort of understood each other in an inexplicable way that was purely unique.

He turned on his heel and opened the door wide for me. Pushing myself out of the most uncomfortable seat in the world, I ducked through the door, and though I couldn't hear his footsteps behind me, I knew the boy was following.

The hallway was crowded with kids. Most of them paused in their conversations to sneak a glance of me as I passed, but no one out-right talked to me. I gulped, feeling their eyes like a weight on my shoulders, and nervously twirled a strand of my hair.

Suddenly, the boy was right next to me. He pulled the strand of hair from my shaky hands and tucked it behind my ear before shooting murderous glares at everyone. Immediately, the students averted their eyes and went back to gossiping about hopefully non-Max-related things. His hand brushed mine ever-so-slightly, and I felt my entire body just melt into relaxation even as a small blush crept its way up my cheeks.

* * *

I entered homeroom with _him_ on my heels. The second I stumbled through the door, the teacher focused her beady eyes on me and smiled a cold, unemotional smile. I saw him giving me an apologetic look out of the corner of my eye. Mentally sighing, I stepped farther in the room and faced the teacher full on.

"Thank you for guiding our new student, Mr. Xavier," she said, voice no doubt as icy as her heart.

I mentally cursed when she didn't call the boy by his first name. What was with this school and just calling people by their last name? My gosh….

He gave her the slightest bob of his head before heading to the back of the room and folding himself into a seat. The teacher narrowed her eyes at me as if she had some pure hatred of me, though her creepy smile never wilted.

"Ms. Ride, is it?" she asked, circling me like a lioness studying her catch.

I tilted my head back in an affirmative gesture and the teacher cocked her head. "Do you talk?" She sounded absolutely incredulous.

Naturally, I said nothing, and just stared straight forward at the lazily-ticking clock on the wall. The teacher laughed so heartily, you'd have thought she just found a million dollars. I gave her a strange look.

"How absolutely delightful!" She stopped her pacing and clapped her hands. "We now have two students who don't talk in this class. What an interesting thing."

My eyes focused on the boy and had to resist the peculiar urge to grin when he rolled his eyes and placed mock devil horns above his head with his fingers. Apparently I wasn't the only victim to this teacher's antics.

"Well," she said breathlessly. "Why don't you just go back there and take a seat next to your new 'best bud'."

I blinked once before shaking out my head a little and walking to the back of the room to take a seat next to the boy. He nudged me, forcing me to give him most of my attention. Turning to look at him, I saw his eye come down in a wink. Smiling, I shook my head and returned my mind to the front where teacher what's-her-name was giving a lecture on God only knows what.

And that's when I realized that no matter how bad the teacher or secretary or students may be, this boy suddenly made them all ten times better without even trying. I had a good feeling we were going to be great friends.

* * *

**Happy Fourth Everyone :) **ღ

***Shiver***


	4. Jennifer Joy Isn't So Bad

**Hey guys.**

**This story, for whatever inexplicable reason, always seems to make me feel better when I write it.**

**So I'll be writing more often :)**

**Plus, because I'm feeling nice, the next chapter is going to be a cute little scene where Max and Fang are texting each other from across their balconies. I'm excited :)  
**

**Enjoy ;3**

* * *

**MPOV**

Metal hit metal as I slammed my locker door shut and melted against it, eyes sliding shut, mouth ajar as an almost silent sigh escaped me. The bell rang throughout the halls once more, making me tighten my hold on the sack lunch crumpled in my hand as a smirk curled up on my lips. My stomach growled and I pushed myself up from my position against the lockers to start towards the cafeteria.

I didn't know where the boy had gone. Which was odd, considering his locker was directly next to mine. One second he was standing beside me; the next, he was gone, leaving me with a crease between my brows and a loss of direction.

Until I saw the note. It was wedged under my sneaker, black scrawl on white paper. Bending down, I picked it up and scanned it.

_Sorry for the unexpected leave. I'll save you a seat at lunch. But for now, follow these directions:_

_Go straight down the hall and take a left at the curve. From there, keep walking past the first turn until you reach the second intersection. Turn right, and you should see the double doors leading to the cafeteria. _

_See you there._

And so there I was, fumbling through the halls like a lost child despite the boy's easy directions. Thanks to my wonderful sense of direction, I managed to find myself all the way at the front of the school when I knew the cafeteria was at the back of the school. Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face and leaned against a wall, wishing the boy was here himself instead of the tiny note crammed deep into my back pocket.

"Hey, Max, right?"

My head snapped up at the sound of the voice. When I saw no one in front of me, I warily turned and was met with a girl my age with short brown hair, green eyes, and a friendly smile. Since she didn't appear too evil, I nodded my head, curious as to why she was talking to me.

"My name's J.J," she said cheerfully.

I stared blankly back.

"I'm in your English class."

Still nothing.

"Very front of the room…," she continued. And then a light seemed to spark in her eyes as realization dawned on her. "Ohmygosh! I totally forgot! You don't speak much."

Amused, I shook my head and relaxed my protective stance a bit. She didn't seem all that bad.

J.J beamed at me again. "Well, that's okay with me. You can just do, like, hand gestures and stuff. I'm pretty sure I'd get the gist." She waited until I nodded before continuing. "Anyway, I couldn't help but notice that you looked a little lost. Trying to get to the cafeteria?"

I gave her a 'no duh' look, which made her laugh. It bubbled out of chest, and she did that weird thing that some girls do where they cover their mouths with a hand when they laugh. Although with her, the gesture didn't seem like a polite gesture to do, but instead a habit she had always had. It seemed natural.

"Yeah, of course you are. Want me to show you the way?" she asked.

I eagerly bobbed my head and J.J began to walk, leading us down the hall in a comfortable silence. I observed my surroundings: Very few kids were still milling around the hall, giving us complete quiet as we traveled. The ones who were around didn't seem to be going anywhere. They sat propped up against the lockers, head shoved in a book as they vigorously tried to catch up on some last minute homework they either forgot to do, or didn't care about doing up until this moment. No one regarded me as I passed, which was a nice change in things.

"So I bet you're wondering what my name stands for," J.J voiced, breaking the silence. Heads peered up from their books, but their gazes didn't linger long.

Now that she mentioned it, I really did begin to wonder. I never really met a girl who had initialed her name. But then again, I never met a girl named Maximum, either, so aren't I one to talk?

I cocked an eyebrow at J.J, confirming that I did, indeed, want to know.

"My birth name is Jennifer Joy," she stated blandly.

I looked at her, shocked.

"I _know_!" she exclaimed. Then laughed. "Yeah. My parents went around calling me Jennifer, but soon I felt that Jennifer just seemed a little…girly." She shrugged. "I tried Jen for a bit, but that didn't work for me either. And then my old friend Betty suggested J.J. It just had that certain…ring to it I was looking for. You know?"

I nodded vigorously, wishing I could tell her the story of how my actual name is Maxine, but I doe-eyed my dad into convincing my mom to let me change it to Maximum instead. No one noticed the difference because I still went by simple-ol Max.

And I almost did. My mouth hung open, suspended, air taken in to speak. But soon I came to my senses and quickly clamped my mouth shut. I noticed J.J watching me and ducked my head, color rising in my cheeks.

"Hey, it's cool. I don't expect you to just suddenly start talking for me," she said nonchalantly.

My lips twitched slightly in the remnant of what used to be my old smile. I was so grateful for her acceptance of me.

J.J nudged me. "Especially since you won't even talk to that hot guy you're always hanging around."

Gone was the gratefulness.

I glared at her despite the blush creeping its way back up my cheeks. J.J spotted it and started cracking up, placing her hand to her mouth again. Her laugh was so infectious, I almost busted out a chortle myself.

That's how we entered the cafeteria: J.J laughing boisterously, and me trying to resist the grin that was biting at me. A few head turns, but I didn't mind too much. After all, at least the _entire_ room didn't turn to us to stare like usual.

I was really beginning to like this school.

I was really beginning to feel like I might belong somewhere.

But I tried not to let myself get carried away. In a few months, I'd be packing up and leaving this town. And with it, I'd be leaving the boy and J.J and Iggy. Although I didn't care much about Iggy yet. I would have to get to know him better considering the fact that he seemed to be cozying up to my sister.

"Well," J.J said, a grin still easily resting on her lips. "I gotta get going to my other friends over there." She jerked her head in the direction of a table. I didn't care enough to look. "Unless you want to come with? I'm not sure if you have a place to sit at yet, or…," she trailed off, appearing deep in thought.

I hesitated, thinking of what to do. God only knows where my sister is; same with the boy. I supposed I had nothing left to lose—

"Max!" Ella's voice called out to me over the steady roar of voices in the room.

J.J and I both whirled to see Ella beaming at me, hands waving frantically, Iggy and the boy surrounding her. I turned back to J.J and shrugged, gesturing with the wave of my hand to the table. J.J smiled.

"Alright, then. Well, I hope to see you soon! We _must_ get together some time!" she gushed.

And then the most shocking thing happened.

J.J threw her arms around me and gave me a squeeze so quick, I didn't even have time to respond. I only blinked and stood there stupidly before she released me, said a quick good-bye and flitted off. My eyes remained wide for a bit as I walked towards the table Ella was at.

That was the first hug I had received in 9 months. And it was from someone I hardly knew.

Still a tad perplexed, I settled myself into the chair beside the boy, landing my lunch on the tabletop with a small thud. Ella raised her eyebrows at me.

"Made a friend?" she asked.

I shrugged off-handedly, though I could hardly believe it myself. Ella muttered something that sounded like, "Ain't that a first," and had we been alone, I would have retorted back at her. But since we weren't, I settled on shooting her a glare across the table before leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest.

I felt the heat of a gaze on my neck and swiveled my head to see the boy watching me. His head was cocked to the side, dark hair swooping low to obscure almost all of one eye. He regarded me without judgment and in the most blatant way possible. I self-consciously fidgeted with a lock of my hair, feeling odd under his scrutiny. Finally figuring there was nothing wrong with my appearance, I re-crossed my arms and arched an eyebrow at him.

Then, get this, he smirked and then _winked_ at me before whirling around in his seat to face Iggy.

My jaw dropped slightly, my eyes wide. I was bewildered beyond belief. And yet, I felt oddly…good. A warm, fuzzy sensation was working its way through my veins at the thought of him taking even the slightest interest in me.

I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

"Looks like we got some love birds over at this table," Iggy commented, not letting the little scene that had passed between me and the boy go unnoticed.

I glanced between Ella and Iggy a couple of times before giving a meaningful glance to Iggy. They both blushed, but Iggy failed to find this the end of the battle.

"Thank you for being so perceptive, Max, but no. I believe I was referring to you and Fangy-poo over there."

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline as I turned to view the boy—Fang. He glared at Iggy and refused to meet my eyes. Instead, he took another angry bite out of sandwich, reminding me of a shark. Haha, sharks have fangs. And his name is Fang.

Oh, I crack myself up.

After lunch, the day passed pretty much uneventfully. Fang was still slightly upset with Iggy for sharing his name, but soon got over it halfway through sixth period. From there, we sat in that comfortable silence of ours and tried to tune out the consistent lectures we received.

* * *

Fang and I walked home together that day, just a few paces shy of Iggy and Ella. The two of them were really hitting it off. It made me happy to see Ella all love-sick and what not. It was adorable.

As per usual, neither Fang nor I talked the whole way home. The only interaction we had was when my house came into view. I waved absently to Fang and began to start up the walkway when I felt something being pressed to my hand. Confused, I looked down in time to see Fang taking his hand away. He gave me one final look, then headed for his own home.

By the time Iggy and Fang entered their home, Ella had come up behind me, peering over my shoulder.

"What's that?" she inquired.

"I—I don't know," I stuttered, my voice raspy from an entire day without use.

"Well, _open_ it."

Shrugging, I heeded her command and unfolded the piece of paper Fang had left in my hand. Scribbled onto the scrap of paper was a number.

"Text Me. –Fang." Ella poked me. "Awwh!" she squealed.

I rolled her eyes and jabbed her with my elbow. "Like Iggy didn't give you his number?"

She smirked. "Actually, he did. And I'm going to _call_ him tonight and _speak_ to him like a normal girlfriend would do."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again and shoved the key in the front door. "Well, lucky for me, I'm not Fang's girlfriend." I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes. "And since when are you his girlfriend?"

"Well, I'm not yet," she admitted. I slammed the door shut and kicked off my Converse. "But it never hurts to show that I have good girlfriend potential."

I gave her a look. "Riight."

She clucked her tongue and bumped her hip against mine as we hung up our coats. "You'll see"

"I'm sure I will."

* * *

**It's storming out terribly o.o**

**And it's 3 AM, so I should get some sleep ;P**

**Review to make Fang less Emo!**

**[-.\\]-Fang without reviews.**

**[^.\\]-Fang with reviews.**

**Hope you have a great weekend! ;D**

***Shiver***


	5. Late Night Rendezvous

**Into the swing of things once more, Shiver shall venture towards the land within thy core.**

**And with that teeny bit of poetry, I present to you the next chapter of Place For Fear.**

**I apologize for the MIA ;)**

* * *

**MPOV**

It was late. The stars sparkled against the dark backdrop of the sky as a tiny sliver of the moon peeked out from one of the French doors guarding my balcony. I pressed a damp hand to the pocket of my plush white robe, where I knew the piece of paper was lying.

All day I had avoided this moment.

The moment I got inside the house, I made a mad dash for my room, resolving to delve deep inside my homework in a pathetic attempt at distracting me from the note. _Fang's_ note. It was a futile attempt, though, as I quickly found out. All throughout my physics homework, the flimsy paper burned a hole through my back pocket. Even after I moved it out of sight, crammed within a pile of sweaters in a drawer, the message still called to me.

When Ella knocked on my door to inform me it was time for dinner, I resolved to giving up on my homework. It was clearly of no use to try and sort through it when all I could think about was the warm, fizzy feeling that bubbled up inside my every time I thought of Fang's silent messages to me.

My mind was lost in thought as I slowly picked my way through the chicken and rice on my plate. Angel and Ella were yammering excitedly away beside me; my mother was nowhere to be found. Left alone to my wandering thoughts, my pulse quickened rapidly as I thought about the smug wink Fang had sent me at lunch that day. Growing hot, my fork slipped right through my clammy grasp, clattering loudly on the black and white checkered tile beneath us.

Cringing at the abrupt loudness, I bent to retrieve my utensil. When I looked back up, I was met with the questioning gazes of my sisters. The muscles in my forehead worked to form a crease.

"What?" I asked, irate.

Ella gave me a knowing look, to which I immediately shot down with a stare that could kill. Pushing back from the table, the legs of the chair screeching against the tile in protest, I announced to them that I was finished and tossed my plate in the sink.

I took the steps two-by-two, making sure to keep my feet light and springy as to not make a noise loud enough to send my mother raging down the stairs at me. So far I had escaped her wrath that day, and I wanted to keep it that way.

When I reached the all-too-white walls of my room, I made the subconscious decision to jump in the shower. With my thoughts tumbling through my mind in no discernible order and my nerves doing summersaults through my stomach, the steaming hot trails of water seemed like the perfect remedy.

Snatching up the robe crumpled up on one of my chairs, I made a bee-line towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Within minutes, I was immersed in the water, a slow, lucid sigh escaping my full lips.

It was as if all my thoughts floated away with the rising steam. I was able to soak up the warm water without one thought of Fang or my mother or my new home ghosting through my mind. It was a nice release that left me reluctant to leave.

A long, long time later I glanced down and saw my fingers shriveling up from the overexposure to water. Sighing, I turned the sleek silver knob and watched as my warmth dripped away to nothing but small, inconsistent droplets.

After patting myself dry and running a comb through my soaking locks, I tugged the plush material of my robe on over my bare, damp skin and scampered off back to my room. I passed Ella in the hall on my way back, a perfectly trimmed eyebrow cropping up into her hairline.

"I sure hope you and Fang aren't _sex_ting tonight," she remarked. Her expression led me to believe she was utterly serious.

I rolled my eyes at her, giving her a playful shove that sent her knocking gently into the wall. "Oh, shut up."

Laughing, Ella continued on towards the stairs with nothing more than a tongue stuck out in my direction. My eyes tilted up to the ceiling once more, but I continued padding on down to my room, my bare feet making a slight sticking noise against the hardwood.

In the enclosure of my room, I stood facing myself in the mirror I had hung up earlier that morning. A pale, bedraggled version of me stared blankly back. For the life of me, I looked like a cat dragged through a puddle.

Despite my ability to push Fang out of my mind for the past hour, I couldn't help the fleeting glance I sent out my French doors to his balcony then. Thankfully, his dark black curtains were drawn tightly together, completely blocking off any view he could have had of me and my grunge-like appearance.

With the thought of Fang came the memory of his note. I didn't even register what I was doing before my drawer was suddenly open, the crumpled piece of paper with Fang's number scrawled onto it secured safely in my hand.

A shaky sigh expelled from my lips as I shoved the note into the front pocket of my robe. Ordering myself not to think of Fang, I tugged open the door to my expansive closet and stepped inside. One of the upsides to my new room was that I no longer had to change in the bathroom to avoid Peeping Toms. Despite my long journey from home to home, I never really acquired any curtains, leaving me always unbearably exposed to the outside world in my room. Here, I had a spacious walk-in closet that was now functioning as my own personal changing room.

The thought brought a twitch to my lips. I had no idea what compelled my mother to buy such a grand home this time around, but trust me when I say I definitely wasn't regretting her decision.

Untying the rope cinching my robe together, I let the delicate white article slide to the floor, then rifled through my clothes searching for something to wear. In the end, I settled on a plain pair of black cotton shorts and an old New England shirt I had picked up when we lived on the coast. It took a while, but I finally filled the shirt out, the cream-colored, silky material clutching at what meager curves I possessed.

I flung open my closet door and stepped out, not being able to control the quick glance I sent towards Fang's room. His curtains were drawn now, revealing a bit of his room, but the dim lighting he had didn't leave much for me to see. A shiver raced up my spine, both delicious and frightening at the same time. Goosebumps prickled against the fabric of my clothes.

I tugged the robe back over my shoulders, my hands clutching the mouth of it closed as I took a perch on the edge of my bed. My hand fluttered over the pocket where I knew Fang's note was resting as I tilted my face up to the moonlit sky. Every pore of my being was screaming for me to take hold of the note and heed the message Fang had wrote, but a cold lump of nerves bundled low in my stomach as I thought of facing rejection. What if he got home and regretted giving his number to me? I didn't think I could face the humiliation of it at school tomorrow; especially not since I was supposed to be doting around him for the rest of the week.

Suddenly, a moment of bravery mixed with notes of bitterness rose in my chest. What did it matter if Fang suddenly regretted his decision and found me distasteful the next day? I would be sailing out of this town in no time, leaving me with absolutely nothing to lose. Soon, I would be just a distant memory.

Solidifying my decision, I took the note between fingers, shrugged my robe to the floor, and snatched my cell from my bag. Within seconds, I had Fang added as a contact and was making my way over to my balcony.

Prying open the double French doors, a chilling breeze flowed past me, leaving gentle kisses across my bare skin. The goosebumps were back, clawing at my clothes, as was the gnawing pit in my stomach. I swallowed the nerves, though, and settled down on the marble of the balcony, wrapping my slender legs around one of the gray columns.

Tapping my phone to life, I took a deep breath and shot Fang a message before I could even begin to think against it.

**Look outside your balcony.**

The seconds that followed the sending of my message were some of the longest I ever had to face. The longer time seemed to stretch, the harder the butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings. I tried not to fidget too much, but ended up twisting a lock of my sandy brown hair around a finger anyway.

Suddenly, the doors across from me were being pried open, and a soft breath I didn't even know I had been holding escaped me along with the rampant butterflies. Fang's stoic, chiseled face was gazing over at me as he sat with his legs crossed down on his own balcony. He held up his phone at me as if to say, "cheers."

I gave a wry smile back and mimicked his actions, swinging my legs gently back and forth with the wind as I watched him duck his head and reply to my text. Seconds later, my phone buzzed to life.

_Just get out of the shower?_

My lips twitched as I absently fingered a damp lock of my hair. **Yes. Unlike you, I don't enjoy sitting in my filth.**

Even from this far away, I could see his eyes twitch heavenwards at my comment. _I take my showers in the morning. You're welcome to hop over and join anytime._

Two red apples appeared on my cheeks, as I felt a warm rush spread through my veins. **I'm considering hopping over to slap you.**

This time when Fang's phone buzzed, he released a short laugh that he quickly stifled, as if surprised he had emitted it himself. _Any physical contact will be openly welcomed. How was your first day at Bridgewater?_

I was eternally grateful for the change in subject. My skin was tingling at the thought of Fang's hands roaming my skin, and I wasn't sure if I necessarily enjoyed the feeling or not. It wasn't a feeling I was used to experiencing, that was for sure.

**It was alright. I would have gotten completely lost if not for you though.**

_Is my assistance still required for tomorrow?_

A smile blinked through my eyes. **Yeah, it might take me a while to get used to the school.**

_I'll stick to you like glue, then. Wouldn't want you getting lost, after all._

I chuckled slightly under my breath, knowing all too well how easily I got lost.** Right, because when I get lost, I'll most definitely find myself in a life-threatening situation.**

_Don't worry, I'll be there to protect you._

My face tilted up of its own accord, meeting Fang's even gaze. His chocolate brown eyes were working magic to undo the wall I had built up around my heart over the years, though the emotion that I saw swimming through them was undecipherable.

The small rectangle of my phone buzzed in my lap, wrenching me away from his stare to glance at the screen.

_How'd you get the stitches on your arm?_

My heart froze in my chest, icy needles stabbing me all over. A cold sweat damped my palms, making it a difficult task just to lift my phone into my grasp and tap out a white lie to the boy sitting across from me. At that moment, though he was mere feet apart, I began to feel alone, as if the distance between us stretched on for miles upon miles. It was an unsettling feeling.

**I broke a vase.**

I cursed at myself, knowing very well that the lie was pathetic, with absolutely no logic backing it up. Sure enough, Fang's message voiced as much.

_And what? A shard of it magically floated up and sliced you?_

Tipping my head up, I met his heavy stare once more, my fingers absently going to the crude stitching of my forearm. It was my fault Fang had discovered them. I was being careless wearing a short-sleeved shirt; it exposed not only my stitches, but the faint, white, lingering scars from the previous abuse of my mother.

Fang's eyes bore into mine, begging me to give him the truth, the real answer to his burning question.

**I tripped with it in my hands, and fell in the pile of glass.**

My gaze never strayed of Fang's. Instantly after he read the text, I knew he didn't believe me by the way his body went rigid. Every muscle in my body tensed, awaiting his response of probing questions. My stomach clenched just at the thought of it. The second Fang started asking questions was the moment when I would have to shut him out.

And damn it all, I wasn't prepared to do that. Despite all my efforts, all my years of building an impenetrable wall around me, Fang was beginning to seem like my Kryptonite. There was an unspoken understanding between us I had never felt with anyone else before. It was an understanding that made me melt from the inside out. It was an understanding that whisked away the unbearable feeling of being alone.

The dreaded buzz hummed against my thigh, making the bare skin there tingle. I picked the phone up with stone-cold hands, heart thrumming fast in my chest.

_At least you weren't hurt worse._

My head snapped up, eyes bulging out the size of saucers. Fang met my surprised gaze with a sad, understanding one of his own. He knew I was lying to him, but allowed me to slip by anyway, patiently waiting for me to come to him with the answers.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, blurring my vision for a moment before I blinked them away.

**Thank you.**

For the next ten minutes, Fang and I shot mindless texts back and forth, carefully tiptoeing around sensitive topics relating back to our pasts. Though I had no idea what kept Fang wrapped in silence, I had a dreadful feeling that he was catching on to my reason pretty quick. The thought made me sick.

Eventually, we both agreed we should slip into bed before one of our parents found us out there. I bid him goodnight with a rueful smile, my heart clenching as I wished I had nothing to hide from him.

Deep down, though, I knew that I wasn't the only one clawing on to a dark secret. Somewhere in those deep brown eyes was a past that had struck Fang with the bony touch of silence. We were both just two broken kids trying to wade through this sea of a broken life, day by pitiful day.

* * *

I had mixed feelings about going to school the next day. Part of me was excited to see Fang at school again, but the butterflies coursing through my stomach when I woke up that morning told of the other side of my double-edged sword of emotions.

I ate quickly, scarfing down a granola bar that I really had neither hunger nor taste for before skipping up to the third floor bathroom. Angel was currently occupying the first floor bathroom, Ella in the second floor, leaving me to brush my teeth and work through the knotted mass that dared called itself my hair on my mother's floor.

Thankfully, the bathroom I was using wasn't actually my mother's. She had her own private bathroom in the master suite at the end of the hall, so I didn't have to risk getting a beating on the off chance that she discovered me in her room.

With my mom off at work, my sisters and I were allowed to be as rambunctious as we so desired during the morning. For Ella and Angel that meant squealing over mindless things and chattering up a migraine. For me, it meant burning up my vocal chords.

Spitting out the extra toothpaste in my mouth, I began a tune low in my throat, humming it out into the vacancy of the bathroom. Slowly, as I brushed my way through the sandy brown jungle on top of my head, the hum transformed into a sweet, melodic song that floated from my lips.

I was by no means a talented singer. That being said, I still enjoyed the art of music and loved the way my emotions could pour out in the songs I sang. So I sung them anyway, as loud and as soft as I wanted. Ella complained constantly about my cat-like voice, but it was all in good teasing. I knew she secretly enjoyed the fact that I was able to bring myself joy from time to time.

Ella severely worried about me sometimes.

I would too.

Within twenty minutes, the three of us girls were clambering outside, a chilling breeze whispering against our skin. I tugged the zipper of my jacket up a bit higher and stuffed my hands deep within the confines of my pockets, not yet ready to feel the force of the oncoming winter against me. The Xaviers were exiting their home as well, and both of our groups morphed together.

As usual, I strayed behind the rest of them, ducking my head down to watch the cracks in the sidewalk disappear beneath me. It was only early November, but my breath was already beginning to fog up in the air around me, a chill seeping into my converse and wrapping around my toes.

A tug on my hair had me tilting my head up. After a second, Fang's impassive face popped into view, blinking a greeting at me. A rosy color had seeped its way into his cheeks, softening his chiseled features and making him appear more boyish.

My heart did a little flip-flop as I lifted my hand from out of my pockets, fingers curling in a silent hello. For the rest of the walk to school, we remained in a comfortable silence that had blanketed itself around our shoulders.

Despite the slight heat that spread through me at the proximity of Fang to me, the warm air that wrapped around me when we entered the school was still greatly appreciated. I tugged my coat off as I trailed Fang through the halls to our lockers, already feeling the heat stick to my skin.

At least I remembered to wear a long-sleeved black sweater today. I didn't miss the sly glance Fang threw at the spot where my stitches remained, though. My jaw clenched, but I otherwise remained stoic.

When we reached the lockers, I quickly spun in my combination and tossed my jacket on one of the metal hooks installed in the interior of the metal compartment. My fingers wrapped around a spiral notebook I had stowed away on the top shelf yesterday and tugged it out, slamming my locker shut in my wake.

I spun, meeting a brick wall. My breath gasped into my lungs sharp enough to make me choke a little; my heart gave a little skip. As I glanced up, I realized that it was just Fang.

Clutching my notebook tight against my chest, as if to hide the erratic beating of my heart, I shot him a death glare. He returned my thoughtful look with a slow-spreading smirk that made his eyes sparkle with amusement. It would be a complete, flat-out lie to say I didn't notice how the brightness in his eyes made my heart falter even more, a heady sensation making me feel as light as air the longer he looked at me.

Shaking my head to clear out the cloud that had settled there, I huffed, gesturing sternly in the direction of first period. I saw Fang's eyes crinkle just a bit more with satisfaction, as if he could read the effect he had on me like an open book.

It made me wonder how often he made girls other than me feel that same way. Jealousy stroked its ugly hand through my body, ruffling my feathers a bit.

Fang turned on his heel and headed off towards homeroom. In the absence of his stare, I was able to think quick enough to hurry after him, trying to memorize the way we were heading so that I wouldn't have to always rely on Fang to navigate my way around the school.

First period was passed in a blur of comical looks shared between Fang and me behind Mrs. Cody's back. Honestly, it was a mystery to me how the woman was married; it seemed like every word out of her mouth was some cruel joke specifically designed for her pleasure alone.

Afterwards, the two of us traveled to the rest of our classes, each one duller than the next. In English, I smiled tentatively at a cheerful-looking J.J when she called a greeting to me upon our entrance. Giving a pointed look towards Fang, her eye came down in an exaggerated wink.

My cheeks blushed furiously, and I couldn't but notice Fang's questioning look thrown at me out of the corner of my eye. I pretended not to notice and headed to the back corner of the classroom, folding myself in the seat as if I could somehow magically disappear.

I was going to kill J.J.

Inside my bag, a slight spasm coursed through the material, alerting me to a new message on my phone. I dug through the junk I had in there and checked the screen on the little rectangle.

_Meet me on the balcony?_

My heart clenched—Fang. I slid him a look then, one of his eyebrows raised in expectation. When he noticed my hesitation, he ducked his head back down to hastily tap out another message. My phone buzzed not moment later.

_Once you're done in the shower, of course._

The hint of a smile tugging at my lips, I sent him a quick text back, agreeing to meet him outside that night. When he read the message, I could have sworn his eyes lit up just the slightest bit.

* * *

The rest of the school day was pretty ordinary, nothing of interest happening. Everyone walked home together as they had yesterday, Fang and I staying behind the rest of the group as per usual.

By the time I was breezing through the door to my room, I couldn't deny the excitement bubbling up in my chest. The night couldn't come fast enough, all of my nerves alive and singing, begging for the stars to rear their twinkling heads so that I could receive more of Fang's silent messages.

What I saw on my bed when I closed my door, however, had me frozen solid in my tracks. There was a folded piece of cardstock resting on my bedraggled bed, looking pristine with its spotless beige surface. The dark, inky calligraphy whispering my name on the front of the card was all too familiar to my scarred eyes.

A hard lump formed around my throat, strangling me from precious oxygen. My converse seemed to be filled with cement. Time seemed to be moving through honey.

Licking my dry lips, I hardened the walls surrounding my mind and heart and shoved myself forward to collect the card into quivering fingers. I peeled the front back slowly, dreading every second coming ahead.

My light brown eyes locked in on the smooth calligraphy, soaking in the message written there.

_I'll see you soon_.

* * *

**Woooah! Shiver, another cliffy in this story? Why, yes! Yes there is!**

**I kid. Anyhow, I've got half of the next chapter typed up already, so review and I just may be compelled to finish writing it ;)**

***Shiver***


	6. Shadows

**Writing fanfiction while watching Lifetime Movie Network. Life's pretty cool, no?  
**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**MPOV**

My heart seemed to plummet straight into the floor. The card dropped from my fingertips, drifting softly onto my bed linens. I couldn't seem to get my brain to start working.

The only coherent thought running through my mind was _No._ _No, no, no._

It couldn't be happening.

Brian was back, and he was going to come for me.

I had to try hard to repress all the emotions and memories that swirled around my head when I thought his name, threatening to take me over and force me to relive the past. With a hard blink, I was able to pull out of the trance, rescuing me from the horrors of going back into a time when Brian was a heavy aspect in my life.

He had hurt me enough, and now things were finally looking up for me in this new town. I wasn't going to let him ruin that for me. I wasn't going to let him steal away every chance I got at happiness.

Suddenly, I was craving the presence of another person. My skin was crawling with a million invisible spiders, a heavy sense of dread beginning to spill through my pores.

Against my own accord, my eyes drifted across the room towards my balcony. I peered through the crystal clear glass of my French doors, trying to catch sight of Fang. His curtains were drawn shut once again, making me hesitate against the move I was about to take.

When it came down to it, though, Fang was the only one I could find comfort in right now. My ignorant, poor excuse for a mother was obviously out of the question, and if I went to Angel or Ella about the matter it would only make them worry.

My hands clenched into fists. No, I would not steal away the happiness my sisters had found in this new town. Just because Brian seemed insistent on breaking down my life, that didn't mean I had to take my family down with me.

Fang, on the other hand, knew nothing of my past. He hardly knew anything about me, for that matter. If I went to him, he would have no idea what was wrong, no idea about the internal war raging on inside me that I was ever-so-eager to suppress with the company of someone else.

Digging through my school bag, I gripped the hilt of a plain black stick pen, planning on tossing it at Fang's door. Armed with the simple piece of plastic, I padded over to my French doors and flung them open. The cool approaching winter air washed over me like a refreshing slap to the face. Instantly, any fear of Brian was being smothered.

Even so, I couldn't help but flit my eyes around my surroundings, scanning for anything suspicious. My wide eyes locked on the looming forest that resided behind us. Plenty of shadows were lurking in the depths of the monster, making the hair at the back of my neck stand straight at attention. Any one of those shadows could be Brian.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle. My carefully built walls were beginning to crumble, every part of my body quaking with the immediate reality of what the note left on my bed entailed. I stumbled backwards towards my room, the pen dropping from my grasp. A strong gust of wind blew at me, forcing the pen to roll off the balcony and the doors behind me to slam shut with a resonating shudder.

The choking feeling of being trapped strangled its way through my body. I gasped, trying desperately to fill my lungs with oxygen—I felt like I was swallowing mouthfuls of sand.

Whipping around, I grasped the handles of my doors so hard my knuckles turned white. I gave a sharp, jerky tug and they gave way, spreading wide like a welcoming embrace.

A gaze was hot at the back of my neck, making me panic. I dove inside my room, slamming the doors shut behind me. A scream was stuck at the base of my throat, threatening to dig its way up and into the air. Sweat was beginning to bead all over me, my entire body taking on a clammy, sickly effect.

I had my back pressed roughly against the bronze handles of the French doors, but suddenly I felt all too exposed. Chest heaving with struggled breath, I raced for my bed, diving under the blankets like a five-year-old hiding from a monster.

It was under there that the first of the sobs came shaking out of me.

* * *

I stayed under the blankets long after sunset. Ella knocked on my door more than once, but I sent her away with a lame excuse involving homework. Not once did I dare peek an eye out from beneath the comfort of my linens.

Every sense of mine was on high-alert, honing in on every aspect of my environment. The rational part of me told me I was being ridiculous hiding out like this, but I honestly didn't care at the moment. My blanket was soft and caressing on my skin, giving me a gentle comfort that I so longed for.

In a normal life I'd be able to race to my mother and voice my concerns about my stalker, but I didn't have a normal life. Instead I was thrown into some half-assed excuse of a life, forced to deal with Brian all by myself.

And quite frankly, I was scared to death.

Just as I took in another shuddering breath, I heard my phone begin buzzing a couple feet away. Keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around my fragile frame, I army crawled towards my bag, my waist and everything down still planted firmly into my mattress. My fingers just barely reached, dragging my bag towards me so that I could dig through it comfortably. I found my phone within seconds.

Tapping the screen to life, the pale blue glow illuminated the dark space I had confined myself to for the past few hours. I gazed warily at the screen, half expecting a text message from Brian to be there.

Instead, it was a text from Fang.

_I know you love your showers, but that's no excuse for standing me up for the past two hours._

Two hours?

Blinking harshly, I checked the time at the corner of the screen. Sure enough, it read 11:30. Usually I would have met Fang just after nine.

I hesitated before responding to him, not sure what exactly I could say to him that would make him leave me alone while also preventing him from asking questions.

Finally, my ever-so-eloquent mind came up with, **I got caught up.**

_In your blankets?_

The response was quick, sure. Fang had seen me dive under the blankets then. No shock there, though. Anyone could easily see my entire room through my balcony doors, especially Fang. It was a wonder he hadn't called the cops on me after my little break down episode out there earlier.

Before I knew it, fifteen minutes had passed and I still didn't know what to say to Fang. I contemplated simply saying, "No," and find out where that took me, but that might just piss him off. So I sat there under my blanket, gnawing on my lip as I waited for some genius idea to suddenly pop into my mind.

A sharp series of three staccato knocks sounded at my balcony door. I could hear the wooden frame shake in protest from the contact.

My heart froze, ice spilling over into my body. Every voice in my head screamed the possibility of the person out there being Brian. The second I pulled the comforter back from my head, I would be a sitting duck, readily awaiting Brian to kick down the door and kidnap me. But what else was I doing now? It wasn't like a gigantic mountain under the blankets was exactly inconspicuous.

Swallowing my fear, I counted to three and ripped the blanket from my head, a scream already waiting at the base of my throat.

A shadow, tall and muscular, stood outside my door. The scream started to force its way up, my hands fisting in the delicate material of my blanket.

And then, the shadow waved at me.

Brian would never, ever act that calmly towards me.

Blinking hard against my first instincts, I took a second glance at who was outside. Perfectly messy dark hair and soulful chocolate eyes—Fang.

A sigh expelling from my chapped lips, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and made to stand, only to find that my legs were too weak from hours of lying down to do much. Blood rushed through my body, a serious case of head rush coming on.

Without warning, a soft breeze rushed into my room, and along with it, Fang. Shutting the doors, he cautiously stepped further into my room, coming over to my side. His eyebrows were drawn tautly together, concern flowing deep within his eyes.

He seemed to reach towards me, but I held my hand up to stop him, giving a curt shake of my head. He rested back on his heels, watching me to see what I'd do next.

Leaning down, I shifted through my sea of blankets until I found my bag. Producing a notebook and pen, I scribbled down a quick message and handed it back to Fang.

**What on earth are you doing here?**

_I was worried about you._

Looking up into his face, I saw that what Fang had written was completely and utterly true. He had been concerned about me. I clutched the notebook so hard my knuckles turned white. For once, someone other than Ella and Angel bothered to care.

Gulping past my shock, I wrote back.

**No need to worry, I'm perfectly fine.**

His eyebrows went up ever so slightly. _You can tell me the truth, Max. I told you I'd be here to protect you._

A warm, tingly feeling spread its way through my body. It was the first time Fang had ever called me by my name, and for whatever reason, it spoke to me. My bottom lip began to tremble of its own accord and I had to bite down on it to keep Fang from noticing. Even so, my hand was shaking as I wrote down my next message.

**There are some things you can't protect me against. **

When he read it, Fang sighed. It was warm and low, swirling through the air. The small sound brought me a world of comfort I couldn't even imagine.

Striding towards me, Fang nudged at my legs until I lifted them up onto the bed. He then proceeded to begin to sit down right on top of me. Luckily, I rolled out of the way just in time.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, Fang kicked his black DCs off to the side before swinging his own legs up onto the bed. He took time making himself comfortable, crossing his legs on top of each other at the ankle and resting back against my pillows. The room was dark, making it even more difficult to read the look on his face.

Finally, he took a deep breath and held out a single hand. For a long time, I stared at that hand, not sure what exactly I was supposed to do with the offering. Give him a hand shake?

One look up at Fang's prompting expression told me to grasp on to it and never let go.

So I did.

My fingers clasped around the warm, slightly calloused had of Fang Xavier and I experienced a feeling like no other. Touching him sent a spark darting up my arm and threading throughout my veins. Stunned, my expression snapped up to his face, and there in his eyes I saw that he had felt it too.

We locked gazes for what seemed like an eternity. Electricity crackled in the warm air around us, shortening my breaths beyond what could have been remotely healthy. Out the corner of my eye, I saw the slight movement of Fang gulping and I knew the heat wasn't just one-sided.

An invisible pull was magnetizing me to him. It was like I no longer controlled my body as I leaned in closer and closer, taking in all that was Fang. The smell of woods and moonlight wafted around me; every one of his beautifully sculpted muscles seemed to ripple with anticipation the closer I got to him; I wondered if his lips were as soft as they appeared.

Within an instant, the tiny bubble of crackling, magnetizing electricity was gone. My door flew open, my light flipped on, and my mother burst through the door. One look at us and the pulse at the base of her neck leapt into over drive.

I knew what was going to happen next, and I didn't want Fang to witness it.

Shoving hard against his chest, the world around me seeming to stretch as if in honey, I shouted for Fang to go. He looked confused, and if I wasn't mistaken, a smidgen of hurt flashed across his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had come and the longer I thought about it, the more I was sure it was never there.

Time snapped back into place as Fang leapt from my bed. He had his feet in his shoes within two seconds and was already at the French double doors by the time my mother began to shout.

"Maximum Lorraine Ride!" Her voice boomed throughout my room just as Fang shut my balcony doors. She jabbed a trembling finger towards my doorway. "Hallway—_now!_"

Without even thinking about it, I leapt up from my cushiony bed and bounded out into the hallway. My entire body was quavering while I just stood there, waiting for the inevitable. Ella poked a curious head out from her bedroom, but I sent her scurrying back inside with a sharp shake of my head.

Snarling quietly to herself, my mother slammed the door to my room hard enough to make the frame shudder. When she whirled on me, her face was contorted into one of blatant, unabashed, murderous rage. It was enough to make me flinch.

Not even ten seconds went by before she began to punish me. The back of her hand came across my face with no mercy, the diamond setting of a ring she wore scraping away at my soft flesh there. I felt the blood swell and begin to slither down my cheek as her next blow came. This time it was a gruff shove to the shoulders backed up with enough force to make me stumble. Caught off guard, I slammed hard into the wall just as my ankle twisted a bit. With a sharp cry, I crumpled to the floor, knee burning against the soft carpet.

Leaning over to me, my mother brought her face down so that it was a mere two inches away from my own. I nearly had to cross my eyes to focus in on her beady gaze.

"You dare defy your mother?" she growled. "I set _one rule_ for you rotten children and yet you cannot refrain yourself from it?"

In a flash, her foot shot out, landing deftly in the supple curve of my waist. A groan threatened to escape me, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep it from expelling.

She kicked me once more, this time hitting the center of my stomach so that the air whooshed out of me in a great big gust. "Stop being such a slut, Maximum. I named you to be better than that. Don't bring shame upon your own name."

With one more back-handed slap to the face that drew more lines of blood from my cheek, my mother turned on her heel and leisurely sashayed to the end of the hall. There, she took the stairs up to the third floor without another glance back at the choking daughter she left behind.

I was still struggling with regaining my breath by the time Ella poked her head out from her bedroom again. Drawing in a sharp breath, she rushed to me, falling down on her knees beside me. The first-aid kit was already in her hand.

While Ella rifled through the kit we didn't speak. Though I finally had my breath steady again, blood still dripped from the tiny slices on my face and my stomach still felt like I had been run over by a semi.

Pulling out a bottle of peroxide and some cotton pads, Ella swiftly applied the stinging solution to my cuts. I winced before I could help it, and she shot me an apologetic look.

"They aren't bad," she murmured. "They should be all healed up within three days."

I swallowed hard as she gently placed the Band-Aids over my cuts. My mind was racing a mile a minute as I tried to come up with an excuse for as to why I had the cuts on my face. Although, since I didn't quite fancy allowing my voice to come out for other people, I shouldn't even _have_ to explain myself.

Despite the reasoning I just preached to myself, a picture of Fang's face flashed through my mind. What would he think when he saw the cuts?

Crossing my fingers, I made the silent wish that the cuts would be mostly faded and closed up by the next morning.

"Any other injuries?" Ella asked as she placed the contents of the kit back in order.

I nodded, lifting up my shirt. "Two kicks to the stomach."

"Hmm…." She leaned over me, a look of concentration written on her features. Very carefully, her cool fingers prodded the soft skin of my midsection, searching for anything terribly out of place. "My diagnosis is a large bruise at worst. I know it must kill now, but it should fade by tomorrow. If not, I'll check it out again."

Yanking down my top, Ella stretched over to my left side, where she carefully tugged down the neckline far enough to expose my stitches. After a quick examination, she gave a curt nod and returned my sweater to its rightful position.

"They're healing up nicely. I'll do some research and find out when I'll be able to take them out, but I'm betting it'll be soon."

"Will I have a scar?" I asked quietly, though I already half knew the answer.

Ella didn't look at me when she answered. "Yes."

It was quiet for a long moment. I was letting her response sink into me as I tried to accept the fact that I would now have a permanent reminder of my mother's abuse imprinted on me. It was a thought that frightened me down to the very core of my being.

"Well, we should get to bed. It's getting late." Rubbing my arm affectionately, Ella took her First-Aid kit and ducked back inside her room.

Struggling into a standing position and ignoring the pain that sprouted from my midsection, I sauntered down the hall to Angel's room. Pushing the door open just a smidgen, I peeked inside and found her safely tucked in under the blankets, eyes shut as she dreamt of sweet things.

Sighing to myself, I quietly shut her door and went back down to my own room. Fang's curtains, I noticed, were wide open now, though once again I couldn't see anything inside his room. I got the uncanny feeling that he was watching me, though, as I shut my own door and sluggishly climbed beneath my blankets.

I rolled around in bed for what seemed like the longest time, trying hard to block out the suddenly-blinding moonlight escaping through my French doors. My skin was incredibly hot, despite the fact that it was practically winter, and to help ward off the heat, I kicked violently at my blankets in an effort to get them off. I heard a soft thud on the carpet just as the blankets slinked free from me.

Looking for an excuse to delay my inability to sleep, I got up from my bed and rummaged around the blankets until I found what had hit the floor—my cell phone. I plopped down on the floor and leaned back against my bed. The second I tapped the screen to life, I saw I had a message.

Eyebrows drawn together, I opened up the message only to see that it was Fang who had sent me something.

_I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble._

My heart squeezed tightly in my chest. Fang had gotten me into more trouble than he could have possibly understood, but there was not one part of me that wanted to tell him that. He didn't need to know that I had been hurt. He didn't need to know that he wasn't able to protect me like he said he would.

In the end, and even though it was an hour after he had originally sent me the message, I quickly responded back: **None at all.**

This time when I curled up on my mattress, I instantly drifted into sleep.

* * *

**R&R to make my day :)**


	7. Soaring

**MPOV**

A knife, slashing through the thick cold winter air as if moving through honey. Breath shuddering its way through my scraped-raw throat. There was no time to process, no time to think. The honey molded into my meager curves, freezing me into an impenetrable case. My lids came down against the image of the blade racing towards me, refusing to accept my fate. Life would slip out of me in red rivulets; stained would be the overgrown roots beneath my bare, calloused feet.

A snowflake, so crystalline and pure, landed with a melted kiss on the tip of my reddened nose.

Time snapped into position in one split second, a cold rush of adrenaline screaming through my veins. My eyes popped open with an audible click, the honey case dissipating with a gust of crystalized wind. Creak by joint-popping creak, I unfroze, twisting just as the lethal blade came down on my stark-pale, supple skin. It tore through the thin cotton of my pajama tee, slicing a deep gash that ribboned around from the top of my breastbone to my shoulder blade. Blood instantly bloomed, seeping through the threads of my dad's old concert tee. Two drops of blood slithered down the clean curve of my side and dyed the steadily rising blanket of snow with a sharp staccato scar.

_Get moving, Max._

Somehow my brain made a connection with my limbs, and I was suddenly running, all of my muscles moving in a miraculous burst of harmony. Out here in the Dakota forest, it would be easy to get lost from civilization—or in my case, from your hunter. One branch smacked away from my face with a hastily tossed hand and I was encroached in the chuckling shadows of the looming, browning trees. I was producing a hella lot of noise, but not one bit of me seemed to care.

My legs pumped the red, sticky liquid through my veins as I pounded through the underbrush. Pluming clouds of smoke escaped from my parted, gasping lips that were undoubtedly two shades of blue. Caking mud, outstretching claws of branches, angry clouds rolling over the protection of the moon. The sickly suffocating smell of expensive cologne hit me like a punch in the face. Stumbling, I gagged against it, but it was no use; it crawled inside my throat and constricted, strangling me with invisible hands.

Splotches of black shutter-clicked in front of my vision, a sound like defibrillation paddles charging up again after a shock ringing in my ears. Each fluffy, innocent flake sinking down glowed with the comforting illumination of a freshly-lit-fire. Ragged breaths, just under the ringing; I couldn't tell if it was mine or not. The glittering white ground drifted closer just as my brain registered the sopping wet splotching smattering my side.

Darkness consumed everything as the clicking snicker of my hunter drifted sweetly into my ear.

A punch, bruising hard, was delivered directly into the crude stitches knitted into the puckered skin on my forearm. Even through the thick cotton of my spongy sweatshirt, I felt the impact, and I felt it _hard_. My head jerked up, got tangled in a mass of hair glued together with a drawn hood, and I coughed raspily. Heartbeats thundered against my ribcage painfully, ribs heaving with the over-exertion of labored breathing. Sputtering, I flung back my hood, irises being seared down through the core. A thin sheet of sweat shone all over my skin; even my hair felt damp as I swiped back enough to clearly see a brow-furrowed Fang.

Question marks flashed at me, but I ignored him for the most part. Something else was occupying my attention—a burning sensation just above my breastbone that slowly, with each second that passed, began fading into a faint pins-and-needles sensation. Fingering it gingerly over my sweater, I knew what would be at the source of the stinging. For a long time now, I had completely forgotten about it, but things had changed.

A lot of things had changed in the past couple years.

Sighing warily, I worked a quaking hand against the tense lines that wrinkled my forehead. Glanced up to Fang's opaque eyes. He tapped one long finger at the pressed crescents beneath his eye—I knew that on my face, I'd have enough bags there to rival a ninety-year-old motorcyclist.

_Are you tired?_ The unspoken question hung thinly in the air.

I shrugged off-handedly and stood from the hardness of what this torturous school subjected me to sit in. Books were gathered into my shaking hands, then I was tottering unsteadily out the door, Fang right at my heels.

Truth be told, I was exhausted. Waking up two hours after you fell asleep and lying there, sore down to the cartilage in your bones, not able to drift off again until morning, will do that to you I guess. All throughout my morning classes, I struggled against my lead-weighted eyes, but by fifth period it was no use. I drifted off the second I slumped into the chair and had no regrets.

Except for the memory it dredged up.

The cafeteria was a roar of deafening noise against the silence Fang and I had accumulated. Ella was easy to spot, waving vehemently at us from her position on Iggy's arm. The pale strawberry-blond was whispering words that did well to turn my sister's cheeks into bright red apples. Those two had gotten so close to each other in the past couple days—it made me skittish enough to want to turn right around out the doors. Maybe continue my nap.

Just above my breastbone was that burning sensation again. I shook my ratty hair down to obscure my face in the futile attempt to hide the shadow that passed over my features then.

_You're okay now, Max. Just calm down._

All the way to the table, I kept a laser-sharp focus on nothing but the near-inaudible squeak of my sneakers against the linoleum.

"Hey, Max!" Sugary, cheery, sweet—Ella's voice clashed like wind chimes in a tornado against the dark cloud roiling in my head.

As for a response, I deemed it wasn't necessary, and instead plopped heavily down in my seat, goading a shudder out of the table. Ella scooched herself a smidge away from Iggy to lean in for a valid view of my face. I refused to lift my head to meet her gaze, though—every part of me felt heavy, as if someone had unzipped my skin and poured a bag of lead inside of me.

It was an exhausting, lonely feeling.

Abruptly, I was hyperaware of Fang subtly shifting and moving beside me in a way that scooped my attention, but left everyone else unbothered. Through a run in the curtain of my hair, I snuck a quick glance at him and noticed that he had a firm grasp on the smooth pane of his cell phone. My eyes rolled and I settled my chin back on my forearms resting on the table. A vibration skittered through the cool denim of my jeans, but I ignored it. Kept staring blankly ahead at the fake-wood tabletop in front of me.

Minutes passed by without interruption, but I should have known Fang wouldn't let me get by on that. His own cell phone suddenly appeared in my line of vision, forcing me to look at the message he had just sent me. If I had wanted to be childish, I could have simply rolled my head to the side and escape being the social butterfly I knew, deep down, that I was. But this was the Real World, and in it you have to suck it up and gallop straight into the fire. Taking my daily dose of tolerance, I made a small clucking noise and read whatever it was that he was so adamant about.

_Do you want to fly away, Little Bird?_

My lids closed down in a heavy blink, nice and slow, trying to comprehend the small little letters illuminating in my face. Across from me, I was aware of Ella suddenly tuning in to the tiny exchange occurring between Fang and I, but I didn't care as I lift my head just enough to gauge his expression. It was stoic, as per usual, but an unspoken understanding seemed to crash over us just then in the way that had begun to seem inexplicably familiar.

"What-?" Ella began, but it was of no use. In the one expression I shed for Fang, he seemed to have read my thoughts like an open book. With a tiny jolt that flushed my paling skin, he had my hand and was yanking me free from my seat. I stumbled a tiny bit, stunned, then quickly caught my bearings, sneakers screeching loudly to keep up.

"Wait!"

Ella's voice caught my attention, though she was already so far away. Cricking my neck around, I shot her a tentative smile, not quite sure what was going on myself, but wanting to put her mind at ease.

_I'll be okay,_ my eyes said. She bobbed her head once, and then a crack rang through the air as Fang plowed out the doors.

The halls were near empty as we raced past the cold gray lockers and cream-oak doors, still clasping the other's hand with vice-like force. I wanted to ask what we were doing, but bit my tongue immediately. Despite the moments that had passed between Fang and I lately, I had still only lived in this town for a week. Everyone was still under scrutiny in my eyes, no matter what kind of connection I thought I had with them.

_Remember when you believed you had a connection with—_

A scythe swung down and sliced through the end of the thought before I could think his name. Now was not the time to think of _him_. Now was the to let go; the time to be free and escape the harsh nightmares of my life. I was going to surrender to Fang just for today, and I hoped to God he was making me fly far, far away from all the wretchedness that had clamped down around me today.

Fresh, open air was the first thing I sensed before the sunlight seared my fragile eyes. We didn't pause for even a second, the rising drifts of snow seeping through the flimsy material of my sneakers as we trekked. The temperature had dropped well into the forties the past few days, tugging a cloud of warm breath out in front of me. As my eyes adjusted, I could spot Fang's own breath puffing out like a steam engine. The thought made my lips quirk.

About five minutes later, we were so far off school grounds we had actually reached Fang's backyard. It was only then that he slowed down to merely a brisk walk. I coughed a bit in exertion, brows coming together in question—right as I crashed into Fang's back. The heady scent of musky woods and vanilla almonds coated over me as I inhaled. It was an addicting scent that made me reluctant to pace the few steps I took back.

Fang turned around slowly, jerking his thumb towards the mouth of the woods. Excitement performed a tap dance deep within the rebellious flames burning in his eyes. Though it made something in me ache to douse those wild emotions swirling inside him, I had to hesitate. With _him_ skulking somewhere nearby, the mocking, menacing shadows created by the boney hands of branches seemed about the least comforting thing in the world. I tugged meekly on the hem of his sleeve, shaking my head vigorously from side to side and beginning to turn away.

Fang hooked my arm and twirled me around, holding me heart-stuttering close to his chest. I swallowed around the lump in my throat as his feather-light fingers tipped my chin back until I was forced to lock eyes with him. His touch grazed down the length of my arms, sparks flying through the air, and carefully enfolded my hands in his. Never breaking my gaze, he brought our coupled grasp up to his heart, where he gently rested my palm. Its beat was steady and strong, a tether tying me to this weightless tilt-a-whirl of a life. His eyes beamed pure, wholesome truth.

_Trust me._

Fang's pleading words sprouted silky wings and fluttered inside me, filling the hollow holes I didn't even know were there. Golden sunshine kissed my skin, warming me despite the nipping frost lingering in the air. The longer I gazed into his eyes, the more certain I became that I could not deny his request. How many people had broken his trust in his life? There was no way I could do the same.

Even though I told myself that was the reason why I tentatively bowed my head, the truth burned as bright as a raging wildfire though my veins. After everything that has happened to me, I needed to know that I could trust someone, too.

Leaves, fallen and brittle from the start of a cruel winter, crunched beneath our careful steps. The beginning of the forest was untamed, all scraps of humanity flaking away the further we hiked. A wave of foreboding crashed over me, but it was instantly subdued with the tight grip of Fang's calloused hand cupping at my elbow to make sure I never faltered. I itched to ask him where he was planning on taking me, but was too content with the silence we captured between us to say anything. He walked with such finicky precision, though, that I knew he had some destination in mind.

After two hops over roots groping for my clumsy feet and a swat at a low branch, Fang pulled me out into his secret spot. The ground was mostly untouched, tall grasses flirting with my knees, but it gradually webbed out to the smooth plain of bone-dry ground that would have been lush green if it wasn't winter. At the end of the field, it jutted out and fell off to open space, plummeting into deep, hushing darkness. We sauntered over to the edge and Fang gestured for me to look down. Obliging, I noted the colossal length between me and the rock-splinter ground. I swallowed the lurch of my pulse jumping into my throat, reveling in the exciting tingle skipping across my skin.

Lips twitching, I risked a glance at Fang, who was watching my reaction with a spark in his eye. When he saw my cheeks flush under his eyes, he grinned knowingly, and gave my hand a quick squeeze. Rolling my eyes, I slipped free from his grasp and got down on the frozen ground, legs dangling off the edge of the cliff. Though I kept my eyes forward to the line of the trees across from us, I knew Fang had settled down beside me with the way my entire right side heated up as if the sun was hovering next to me. My muscles coiled, resisting the urge to shift closer to him. He would have gotten a real kick out of it if I so much as brushed up against him.

A vibration flooded through my pocket and I instinctively fished my phone out. Opened the new message.

_Feeling better?_

My eyes trickled over towards Fang again as I tapped in a response.

**Extremely. Thank you for doing this. You didn't have to. **

_Yes, I did. You were in pain._

I caught my plump bottom lip between my teeth. **Was it that obvious?**

_No, but I know pain well enough to recognize it in someone's eyes._

My heart closed in on itself, aching painfully. A long moment passed without me replying. There were no sounds out here, other than the whispers of the lingering, browning leaves rustling together. Another buzz.

_Life is a frightful dream, no?_

**As much as it may seem that way now, I can't bring myself to think that—I have to believe there is something out there other than all of this. Something good has to come out of my suffering. **

_What is the cause of you suffering? You can tell me, little bird. I mean only to help you. _

I hesitated a second too long. **Why do you keep calling me little bird?**

With the way he sighed, I knew he realized that I was trying to change the subject, but thankfully he just let it go.

_Maybe I'll tell you one day._

**Don't you think I deserve to know where this new nickname came from?**

_No._

Clucking my tongue, I threw an elbow into his stomach. A playful growl erupted out from the base of his throat, and before I knew it, he had pounced on me, tackling me to the ground in a string a tickles. Uncontrollable laughter bubbled out from my chest, hands desperately trying to pry Fang off me. A grin was spread across his lips as he continued the assault; his hair was mussed, eyes shining bright.

Admittedly, I squealed a little bit when I finally captured his hands in mine, only making him laugh paused then, breathing heavy with big, stupid smiles lighting up our faces. Subconsciously, I was vividly aware that my hair was undoubtedly a tangled rat's nest and I fidgeted to squirm out from beneath Fang to fix it, but he refused to let up. Instead, he tentatively reached out and brushed my bangs away from my face, smoothing them out with a slight wrinkle between his brows. He ducked down, a honey warm flush flooding like a sweet serum through my veins, and rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were fierce, as if he was trying to tell me something, but here, enclosed in our own enclosure of bittersweet silence, neither of us spoke. Just studied each other, afraid that if we did much else, we might slip and fall head-first into the dark paradise we were trying so hard to escape from.

Rolling over onto his back, Fang gently inched me over to rest in the crook of his arm, my head resting against the drum-beat of his heart. The cold air twisting and swirling around us, we stayed there until the sun went down. I sunk into him, letting my guards down completely.

And my God, my heart was _soaring_.

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	8. Chapter 8

**It's hard to believe that I haven't seen you guys since October! Gah, I've been so busy, but I'm sure you guys would rather read the story that hear about my schedule :3 So here's the next chapter—enjoy, lovely readers.**

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**MPOV**

Darkness engulfed me until I could feel nothing but the bitter cold constricting me and the tension in my ribs as they stretched past their capacity to try to accommodate my guffawing breaths. My heart was thundering in my ears as I struggled to sit up; there was a steely rod locking me down in the dirt, unrelenting in its grip. Scrambling thoughts tried desperately to come up with a solution, but all I could focus on was Brian.

He was there, I knew it. Somehow he had captured me, and this time I wouldn't be able to escape. Twisted with a lust for vindication, he would torture and mutilate me until my sisters wouldn't be able to identify my body. It would be a closed-casket ceremony as the girls I tried so hard to protect, lowered me beneath the gravelly dirt.

The thought made me struggle harder. Kicking and squirming, I vehemently attempted freeing myself, memories of Ella and Angel prominent in my head. Not a minute was going to pass where I would not fight for them. For them-

Suddenly, the inky black was replaced with a searing white that struck through my retinas and pierced my skull. Cringing, I tried to recoil back, but was still held in proper place. After a moment of painful adjustment, I could view what was in front of me.

_Max, stop moving. There's someone watching us._

Fang's phone. That wasn't a steel rod pinning me down, it was Fang's arm. Grabbing the phone from his grasp, I sagged into the ground with relief as I tapped a message back to him.

**What's going on?** The phone was traded.

_We fell asleep on the cliff. When I woke up, I saw someone move back into the shadows. I think they're still here._

_Brian._ I knew without a doubt that it was him hiding in the tentacles of shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. And this time it wouldn't just be me facing the consequences. Fang was now dragged in; I was _not_ about to lose the only person to treat me with such kindness…such gentleness.

No, I decided adamantly. Brian would never hurt Fang. I wouldn't allow it.

Taking a firm hold on Fang's hand, I peeled his arm off my waist and leapt up, yanking him with me. There was no time to pause and explain my plan to him; the window of opportunity for escape was almost shut. Instead, I took off sprinting into the trees, Fang's phone my only light.

Breaths coming out in ghostly puffs, I couldn't help but be reminded of that night, just over a year ago. The scar ribboning my torso ached as a painful memory that worked hard to propel me faster, the distance between us and Brian growing the harder I ran. Red tinged my vision as determination settled as a stony pit in my stomach.

With scary precision, I managed to drag us from the hands and teeth of the forest in three minutes flat. I was disorientated at first having had popped out at an unusual angle, but once my eyes locked onto Fang's pitch-black house, I regained my momentum and raced for the beacon of safety. As we rounded the home towards the front, the sound of pounding boots thudded after us, accentuated by the snow layering the grass. Energy poured into my muscles with a punch of adrenaline. I forced us to go faster, tearing around the corner and stopping at the doorstep for only a second so that I could dig into a stunned Fang's pocket for the house key I always see him fiddling with. Grabbing hold of the key, I stabbed it into the lock and nearly ripped the door off the hinges as I swung it open. Fang was pushed inside the dark, barren house, I followed with the door locking behind me, then all was silent.

Wind howled eerily outside as we watched the first sprinkles of snow begin to filter down, through one of the grand windows lining the sun-room's walls. There were too many vulnerabilities downstairs, too many places that would reveal our cover to Brian in an instant—we had to move.

Brow furrowing, I tapped a quick message to Fang expressing my thoughts. He nodded grimly, took up my hand again, then led me past the creaks and groans of the stairs leading up to his bedroom. Slowly, I caught on as we tip-toed through the silent home: Fang's heavy blackout curtains would be perfect to hide behind.

My nerves were skittering beneath my skin, jumping from muscle to muscle and making me twitch. As soon as Fang had his bedroom door closed, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, his body the only sensation in the shadows that encased his room. Ever so hesitantly, I brought my arms up to wrap around him, too. When a bang outside rang through the bones of the house, I turned swiftly to bury my head in his chest.

I couldn't even tell you how long we stood as perfect statues like that, our minds succumbing to the ebony atmosphere and conjuring up horrible delusions of the smallest skitters being the blade of a knife dragging across the siding of the home. Our hearts were lurching and pounding with erratic, stuttering paces. I seriously had to focus on keeping my breath regular; otherwise I would have started hyperventilating.

The only thing keeping my mind from drifting into the abyss of memories that highlighted Brian, was Fang's arms around me; the methodical way he rubbed circles into my back with the gentle skim of his fingertips. I clung to him with my eyes clenched shut and my mind turned off. Drowning in the fierce curve of Fang's muscles molding protectively around me, I attempted to focus on the fact that the night would end eventually. Someone would come home soon.

As if on cue, the lock on the front door clicked, and someone called out: "Fang! Are you home? Why are all the lights off?" The voice vaguely called forward the one memory of Mrs. Xavier that I had. Peeking out from the cover of Fang's chest, I just barely had enough time to see a flood of light come from the crack under the door before it swung open, exposing a smiling Mrs. Xavier.

"Honey—" The second she saw us, her smile drooped into a sneer. Untangling myself from Fang, I stepped several paces back and averted my eyes away from the scowling woman, hands clasped tightly behind my back.

"What is _she_ doing here?" she demanded, arms taut across her chest.

My eyes glanced off Fang, seeing him loom with his stance as a muscle twitched in his jaw. Narrowing his eyes to slits, he took one step towards me, a silent defensive gesture. Tense silence constricted around us, strangling me. I stirred awkwardly, prepared to just push past the woman and walk out.

Suddenly, Iggy's strawberry-blond head popped up behind his mother. Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, he said, "Let her go, mom."

No one moved. My eyes were wide, watching a silent exchange occurring between the two in the doorway. After a long moment, the mother huffed and, with a quick glare tossed my direction, turned to walk back downstairs. I looked to Iggy with relief flooding through my gaze.

"You should get home; your sisters are looking for you," Iggy said, a soft, crooked smile lifting his lips.

Nodding, I threw one last apologetic glance at Fang, then brushed past Iggy to hurry downstairs. The front door was wide open, no doubt an invitation from Mrs. Xavier that I welcomed gratefully. Without a doubt, I understood the message she was conveying to me up there: she didn't like me, and I wasn't welcome to be in her home. Thanks to my mother.

The backs of my eyes stung as I felt the weight of the stress from the past few days fall on my shoulders. Every ounce of me wanted to collapse beneath my blankets and not wake up until graduation—until Ella and I were eighteen and could adopt Angel, taking her away from the horrors of my mother forever. Ella would attend college, and I would give Angel the life an innocent child like her deserved. Staying strong until then would be the hardest challenge I'd have to face.

Pasting a smile on my face, I swung open the door to my house and was immediately bombarded with the comforting hugs of my sisters. Their worrisome chatters bubbled up in the expanse of the home, warming my heart against the frigid memories of Brian stabbing at my mind. Not wanting to worry them further, I soothed their accusations into laughter as I told them about Fang and I accidentally falling asleep outside. After explaining explicitly to them that _nothing happened,_ I excused myself to go take a shower.

As it usually ended up, the warmth of the water did nothing to calm my nerves or silence my thoughts. I rinsed off as quickly as I could, ready to just end the day already. Even breathing was becoming taxing.

Sighing, I plopped down on my bed twenty minutes later. My hair was sopping wet beneath me, soaking through the thin cotton of my tank top and making it stick to my back in a way that made me squirm. Tendrils of wind were brushing against my damp skin from my open balcony, raising goosebumps. Beneath me, I could practically feel the elegant calligraphy of Brian's handwriting burning into my back from the tiny card stashed under my mattress.

Though I shifted over to flick my light off, I knew I wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. Tears were pricking at the backs of my eyes again, a craving for shelter beginning to web through me. After that night, it was blatantly obvious that I could not refuse his presence any longer. Brian was truly there, lurking in the shadows, buttering me up with stupid mind games before pouncing on me and tearing me to shreds. There was no way I would be able to escape him a second time, that much I was positive about. This time when we faced, I would lose, and it would cost me my life.

As the tears finally spilled over and wound down my face, I realized that the only reason why I truly wanted to keep living was so that I could protect my sisters. Remove them from the equation, and honestly death didn't scare me all that much. During my brief brush with death the last time I encountered Brian, death seemed actually sort of…peaceful. I had been spending my entire life in pain and fear up until that very last second. Then suddenly a sweet, syrupy relief was poured over me, feeling like the tender kiss of an angel. I couldn't see anything, and there was a ringing occupying my hearing, but I knew that I was not alone. Someone's hand was there, resting on my shoulder and guiding me back home.

That was as far as I got, though, before the light consumed me. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a lumpy hospital cot all alone. My mother had packed up my sisters and went off to the next state with them, planning to retrieve me once the hospital deemed me healthy enough to be released. The only people I saw for the next two weeks were my nurse and a burly old cop who tried his hardest to get me to talk, even when I was stubborn as a mule in keeping my mouth sewn shut.

That was when I decided to stop talking altogether unless it was to my mother or sisters. It was easier that way. Safer.

Blinking thoughts of that time out of my mind, I shifted to my other side and stared blankly out my French doors. The weather had calmed down considerably since I had last checked, allowing for the moon to peek through and illuminate the ground beneath my balcony. I wondered absently if I would survive a fall off the pretty marble structure. At the very least, I would get another two weeks alone to myself at the hospital while I healed. Would it be worth it?

A sharp vibration from within my sheets made me jump as a gasp lurched from my throat. Pressing my hand to my chest in a moot effort to calm my heart, I rummaged through the blankets until I found my cell phone. Fang had sent me a message: _How are you feeling?_

I didn't even want to think about how he would react if I confessed about contemplating my death mere moments before. Would Fang care if I died? Something in me doubted he would. Sniffing, I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand, and tapped in a quick reply just to get him off my back.

**Fine.**

_Do you always cry when you feel fine?_

Alarmed, I shot up, eyes wide as I focused in on the open balcony door. Across the way from me, Fang had his balcony doors open as well, his muscled arms resting casually on the banister as he gazed up from his phone at me. Feeling absolutely ashamed that he had seen me so weak—heard my sobs in the empty night—my cheeks flamed up as I felt even more tears threatening to overtake me. What was happening to me? When had I become so weak?

A buzz, as if he was reading my mind. _Sometimes tears aren't a sign of weakness—they're a sign of being too strong for too long. It's okay to let your guard down._

I wasn't even sure how to respond to that. How could I describe to him that there was a man hell-bent on killing me, and that was the reason for the scare we had earlier that night? How could I tell him that the scars and bruises mottling my skin were a product of my mother's deteriorating sanity? How was I supposed to express the feeling of drowning and suffocating beneath a mountain of responsibility, pain, and constant fear? I could barely admit to _myself_ that this was what my life had succumbed to; there was no way I would be able to admit it to Fang, the first person to ever show me kindness after…that night such a long time ago.

_Come out here._

Warily, I peeled myself off the bed and padded out onto the balcony. My plush sweats dragged forlornly on the ground, the only source of warmth in the cold air that instantly engulfed me when I walked out. I wrapped my arms around myself, absently fingering my stitches as my phone began to buzz with a mass of new text messages. As my eyebrows knitted together, Fang locked eyes with me, a stern smile tilting up the corners of his mouth.

_You listen to me, Little Bird. I believe in you. You are such a strong, invincible person—I can see it there in your eyes whenever you space out and get tangled in your thoughts. I don't know what pain you're dealing with, but I know that it isn't fair. Someone with a soul as bright as yours deserves to smile every second of every day for the rest of your life. Whatever it is that you are dealing with, I am going to be with you every step of the way, reminding you just how amazing you are. You will get through this—I promise. But for tonight, if you need to cry, that's okay. It will only make you stronger._

Shutting my eyes, my lip began to quiver. My knees shook as my heart swelled and my skin warmed against the winter chill. Trembling, I let every single one of my guards down as tears spilled down my cheeks, curled around my jaw, and dripped to the freezing marble below. I sunk to the ground, one hand clutching my mouth against the sobs choking out of me; one hand clasping my chest as if I was afraid it would unravel.

My entire mind was vacant, void of any thought or worry that had been haunting me moments before. For the first time in my life, I stopped thinking for once and just _felt._ Felt the kindness behind Fang's words; the gentleness pooling in his eyes whenever we met gazes. Up until that moment then—a minute in time that would forever remain suspended in the stars—I never felt worth anything; I was under the miserable assumption that the only reason why I was put on this earth was so that I could take beatings away from my sisters. But in that instant, I felt as though I had true purpose in life; like I was made to be the binds in my family and the reason why they would someday get the chance to be happy. I was a crumbling pillar slowly building herself back up in order to save the two people dearest in my heart. And I would not fail. Not now.

Now, I finally had someone to keep me going.

His arms somehow found themselves around me. I didn't know how he had crossed the space onto my balcony for a second time, and I didn't care. All that mattered was the comfort that those strong arms provided when nothing else could, pulling me close and gathering me into him as someone would when they found something dear to them that had previously been lost. I buried my face in his shoulder and hung on to him as if my life depended on it. Because, really, it actually kind of did.

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**I hope that was emotional enough for you guys. It certainly took a multitude of sad songs to dredge inspiration from in order to write ^^**

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**My update schedule IS BACK UP and—most importantly—is CORRECT. Check it out from time to time if you want to know when a new chapter will be out.**

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	9. Curtains Come Down

**Writing each fanfiction chapter is like running a marathon because it is so exhausting not being lazy.**

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**MPOV**

Waking up the next morning felt like I was being revived from the dead. My eyes burned with lack of sleep as I watched the dust motes swirl about in the rays of morning sun; when I swallowed, the rawness of my throat made me cringe. There was a dull ache in my ribs, sore from all the sobs that had been wrung out of me the night before. I felt unusually naked, as if I had just exposed my secrets to the entire world when really, all I had done was allow myself to be vulnerable in front of Fang.

_Fang_. His name doused a similar alertness that would come from cold water over me. I jolted up in bed, eyes darting around as I scrambled to glue together the memories from last night. The last thing I remembered was reading Fang's story about how he had tricked a boy in his second grade class into eating a yellow crayon…and after that, I couldn't remember what happened. I must have fallen asleep. Fingering the comforter pooling around my hips, I wondered if Fang had tucked me in bed last night. A blush crept up my cheeks as I thought about how embarrassing it was to fall asleep out on the balcony as he tried to cheer me up. It was mortifying.

Pushing a strap of my tank top back up my shoulder, I jounced out of bed to go start the day. Since it was the weekend, my mother wouldn't leave work to come back home until early Monday morning. Which meant I had some shopping to do to make sure the house's food and necessities would be all restocked before she came back.

After a quick shower, I slipped inside Ella's room and gently shook her out of the soft rhythm of snores. She blinked a couple times, then rolled onto her back to peer quizzically at me. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to the store. Do you or Angel need anything?"

Burying her head back inside the pillow, she huffed out a muffled, "No," that made my lips twitch. For a moment, I sat back on my heels and waited until she fell asleep. When those snores filtered back out from the pillow again, I sighed inwardly.

"Brian's back, Ells," I whispered, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hear me. "And I'm so scared. What am I going to do?"

The question hung limply in the air, feeling so heavy that it seemed to wilt over me. It festered over, its poisons seeping out and contaminating the air. Saying it now suddenly made Brian a very real, tangible threat. I had to wonder how much time I had left; how many more lazy weekend mornings I would wake up to.

I heaved myself up from the floor and padded out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind me. Downstairs, there were keys dusting over in a small candy dish stashed away in the corner of one of the cupboards. I scooped them up, zipped up my hoodie, then went out in the garage to the spare car my mother only let me use for my weekly shopping trips. It was nothing special—just a nondescript, old BMW we had picked up along one of our moves—but I had still fallen in love with it during the rare times I got to take it out.

This new town was on the smaller side, housing only two grocery stores: one corporate, and one tiny whole foods store. I opted to go to the whole foods one, not caring if my sisters didn't like the healthier options; there would be less people in the store, and therefore less opportunities for someone to see me.

Sure enough, as I parked the car and started inside the shop, there was absolutely no one milling around. One employee, bored and exhausted from hours of working, wheeled a cart over to me, and I accepted it with a fragile smile. Here, with the smooth jazz lightly trickling down to my ears, it was the perfect place to collect my thoughts as I shuffled leisurely down the aisles, picking up necessities along the way. I had to guess what brands to get for everything since they all looked odd and vaguely foreign, but I didn't mind; it was all pretty much the same anyway.

My mind wandered as I shopped, and somehow ended up on Fang. What was that boy up to? I thought with a faint smile. A tingly feeling spread from my stomach and into my veins, warming my skin against the chill of the produce section. It was so strange to think that someone outside my sisters actually cared about me. Usually, everyone allowed me to slip silently under the radar, leaving me to deal with the pain of my mother on my own. But now—even if he didn't know the specifics—I had someone to rely on, someone to go to when the weight of the world was making my knees quake. Because Fang knew; he knew what pain was in its naked form, so he never judged me. It was a nice change from the other schools I had attended. Even J.J never bothered me about my muteness.

Thinking about my friends made it possible for me to forget the entity of Brain that was looming over my head. I strolled down the bread aisle with a stupid grin smattered on my face and paused to examine the dates on a loaf of whole wheat bread. Maybe it would be okay to tell Fang about Brian; maybe Fang would be able to help me through the situation.

Just then, there was a smooth whisper at my ear. "What a lovely shirt. Is it silk?"

A pair of hands groped up under the hem of my blouse, and I whirled away, shocked. One look at his face, and my skin drained of color. My breath hitched, and I nearly dropped the loaf of bread I was holding.

"D-Damien?" I stuttered, taking another step back and checking over my shoulder.

Back at the school in Dakota, Brian and Damien were a known double threat. Everything they did had been performed together since they were five. So if Damien was in the store….

He smirked, his tongue flicking out to toy with his lip ring as he studied me. Not wanting to hang around with him, I abandoned my cart and turned to run as fast as I could from the store. But Damien was faster; he appeared in front of me and slammed his hands down on opposite shelves, barring me from the exit. I began to tremble, the scar that ribboned about my chest scorching me raw.

"Don't worry," he said sweetly. "Brian's not here today. No need to act like a scared, little cat."

I gulped and tried to ease the panicked look from my face as best as I could. "Why are you here?"

His teeth gleamed with twisted pleasure. "What? Not happy to see me, Maxine?"

Flinching as though he had slapped me, I felt myself shrink. Usually I held myself strong, confident, fierce, so that people would get the message that I didn't want to be messed with. But now, with Damien towering over me and using the formal name I used to go by…well, I just felt small. Weak. Negligible.

"Don't call me that," I whispered meekly.

Damien chuckled beneath his breath and leaned forward, trying to meet my averted eyes. His finger curled out, coiling a strand of my caramel brown hair around it. I smacked him away instinctively, which only made him more amused.

"My, my," he murmured. "How pretty one year has made you." His hands cupped my face, allowing for him to peer openly at me. I flinched, but otherwise stood stark still as those strong hands slid down my neck, rounded my shoulders, and grazed the tops of my breasts. "Seems you've finally filled out."

I shoved hard on his chest. "Get off of me!"

"Everything alright over here?"

Both of us whirled like deer caught in headlights to see an older gentleman with a manager plate tagged to the white dress shirt that was straining over his bulging stomach. He took in my frightened expression with kind, welcoming brown eyes, but I turned my gaze to the floor. The last thing I needed was someone else getting hurt trying to help me.

"Yes, we're fine, thank you," Damien's smooth voice fabricated.

I felt the manager's concerned expression burning into my head. "Is that true, young miss?"

I could only manage a weak nod.

"Alright. Well, I'll be around if you need me." Another curt nod from me, then I heard the pitter-patter of his footfalls as he walked away.

"Look," started Damien. He grabbed onto my arm, gruffly spinning me around to face him. When I tried to tug away, his fingers dug in deeper. "I came as a warning to you, so you better be fucking grateful."

I shrank back at his growl, head tilting down feebly; like a mute puppy dog. I made myself sick. How could I let these two insolent boys hold so much power over me after an entire year of being free from their clutches? All they saw me as was a toy, something to come back to every now and again just to terrorize until their stomachs hurt from laughter.

_You listen to me, Little Bird. I believe in you. You are such a strong, invincible person._

Eyes blazing, I snapped my neck up, locked glares with Damien, then shot out a direct kick right where the sun doesn't shine. With a groan, he released me instantly, keeling over as he wheezed. I leaned down so that my lips were right at his ear.

"As long as you still breathe this air, I will never be grateful," I hissed. Strength welled up inside me at the memory of Fang's words.

In an instant, the back of Damien's hand connected with the side of my face. My entire head snapped to the side with the force of the impact. Time seemed to still, the entire atmosphere shriveling up as the sting of my cheek spread and my mind reeled. Blood could be tasted in my mouth, and I reached a trembling hand up to wipe off some that had dribbled onto my lips. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him; I could only stand there and stare at the glimmering droplets of blood smeared on my fingertips.

"Bitch," he spat. Grabbing hold of my jaw, he yanked my head up so that I was forced to meet his glower. "You listen to me and drop that lover boy of yours. Brian has his eye on him."

My heart plummeted past my toes, through the floor, and buried itself in the core of the earth. "You're lying." A whisper was all my voice could manage.

A smirk lilted up his lips. "You wish I was." Releasing his grip on my chin, he landed a quick pat on my butt, winked at me, then turned to walk out of the aisle. Right before he disappeared, he called back: "You're welcome."

In the wake of Damien's sudden appearance, I was left quaking. I tried hard—_so hard_—to ignore his words, telling myself that he was lying, but I just couldn't get over it. Despite everything Damien was, he had never been a big talker. If he had something to say to you, he meant it; words were some sort of sacred entity to him. So even though my mind pretended to not care, I dropped the loaf of bread I was trying to put in my cart twice because my hands were trembling so badly.

By the time I reached the checkout and still hadn't calmed the erratic pace of my heart, I knew the decision I had to make. Fang had been a blessing for me since the moment he walked up my doorstep, but it was time to stop kidding myself. My life had long ago stopped being a game. Somehow along the way, it had turned into a very real, very lethal war that I had been battling for longer than I realized. For me to bring Fang into the front lines with me would be the most selfish thing I could possibly do. No one deserved to be a part of this sadistic war Brian started.

Slamming the trunk of my car shut on the grocery bags, I left the cart in the barren parking spot next to me, and climbed in the front seat. For the first time in my life, I didn't just drive the car from the house to the store and back; this time, I took a detour and went a couple miles south of town to a common furniture store. I got out of the car with a set purpose being pounded out in each slap of my sneakers against the pavement, and was exiting the store with a small bag clutched tight in my hands within ten minutes.

When I locked myself in the car, sealing out the roar of the wind that had just been ravaging my hair, I had to release a long, heavy sigh that had been weighing me down ever since I left the food mart. My eyes locked in on the bag resting in my lap, and I found that I couldn't look away. Was I really ready to give away the only good thing to ever happen to me?

Time passed by like honey dripping from a teaspoon, as the weather around me gradually worsened. The clouds were colored over with rich charcoal grays, and the wind was beating so hard that I felt the car rocking slightly. Tossing the bag in the back with the rest of the groceries, I turned the key in the ignition and started off back home, hoping to beat the rain. However, as soon as I got back on the main road, rain trickled from the skies, and panged swiftly against the windows with an incessant sort of white noise. As I got further to home, and the rain got heavier, my eyes kept flickering up to the tiniest patch of sunlight burrowed between two plump clouds. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe that was God up there looking down on me, and if this rain was a message to me that he knew my story and was crying for me the tears that I felt welling up inside me, but refused to let go. The thought, as crazy as it was, somehow made me feel less alone.

Ella was awaiting me when I pulled into the garage, coming out from the kitchen door to help take in the groceries. We had a small, unspoken deal between us: I bought, she unpacked. Usually I would at least attempt to help her do the unloading before she slapped me playfully away, but today was the one day that I didn't mind relinquishing the responsibility onto her. I had something important to take care of.

Tramping up to my room, I was somewhat put off to see Fang's curtains wide open. I paused in the middle of my room, frozen by some anonymous hand seizing a growing pit in my stomach, and all I could do was watch him with sad, soft eyes. How peaceful he looked lying on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, as he stared up at the ceiling. I wondered what he was day dreaming about, and was immediately ashamed of myself when the notion of him thinking of _me_ crossed my mind. Not only was that incredulous, but that was the exact opposite of what I needed to happen.

Shaking my head free of those outlandish thoughts, I shook out the contents of the home store bag onto my bed. Out fell a package of plum curtains and a dozen rings to go with them. Before I lost the guts to not continue with my plan, I kneeled down to peek under my bed for the spare curtain rod I had brought with me from the house several moves ago. Usually, I didn't bother with hanging up curtains because they became a hassle to take down, but now was a time of drastic measures.

I took a seat on the floor, dragging my curtains and rings down with me. Undoing the packaging of the curtains, I tugged them out and went to work attaching the rings in the proper slots the curtains offered. It was a bit confusing at first, but I got the hang of it after the first few and really started to get a good rhythm that allowed for me to literally concentrate on nothing else but the task at hand.

Halfway through, however, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket. Sighing inwardly, I let the curtains drop in my lap as I tugged out the cell. One glance at the screen was all it took for me to clench my jaw and place the phone back on the floor. But it didn't stop there. The longer I worked and continued to ignore the message, the more I got, and the tighter my muscles wound. I was so weak, too—I couldn't even resist quick, fleeting glances at the screen to see what he had wrote next. It was almost pathetic, but that was the affect Fang had on me. Somehow in the duration I've known him, he had acquired an unmistakable pull on my undivided attention.

_What are you working on so secretly over there?_

_Oh, come on. I literally just watched you take out your phone and look at my first text._

_Okay, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Would you like to hear the ending of that story you fell asleep during?(;_

_Max?_

_Did something happen?_

_It's fine if you don't want to talk, just at least tell me you're okay._

_Max, please…_

Each text crushed my heart a little more, but I had to bury the feelings down. This was the best thing for him, I knew it was. The further away from me he was, the better.

Feeling like a million pounds were crushing down on my chest, I stood with a blank face and curtain rod in hand. Luckily for me, the previous owners left in the proper hooks above the balcony doors, so all I had to do was set the rod in place. Then, I reached out to grab both curtains tight enough to make my knuckles stand white as I slowly raised my eyes to gaze across me. Fang was out on his balcony, completely ignoring the rain soaking through to his bones, and watching me with one of the most fearful expressions I had ever seen.

That one look was all it took.

Tears raced down either side of my face, as if competing to see which could drip to the ground faster. I knew that if I waited a second longer, I'd scramble for my phone and try to reassure him that I was fine. So with lead filling me up to the crown of my head and tears overflowing from my wilting core, I swung the curtains all the way shut, completely blocking Fang out from my life.

Too shattered to do anything else, I crawled inside my bed and curled in on myself, hating the fact that the soft comforter tugged over my head couldn't provide the same safety that Fang's arms had the past few weeks. Again and again, my phone buzzed with torturous side effects. I tried covering my ears, but even in that silence my mind concocted phantom vibrations that haunted me to no end.

Until, finally, the texts stopped, and I drifted off into a restless, dreamless sleep.

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**My oh my, Maximum. Your troubles never stop, do they?  
**

**Double digits are coming up next chapter, which usually means a big surprise is in store, but I'm not sure if it'll happen next chapter. I guess it depends on my mood.**

**Follow me on Twitter if you want to know the dates of when chapters are coming out, and any big delays. Link is on my profile.**

**My new story Hellbound, another Max Ride fic, will be coming out June 15th if any of are interested.**

**R&R-I love hearing your guys' opinions(:**

***Shiver***


	10. Behind the Mind

Have you ever been so lazy that you're tired?

Yeah, that's my life ever since I started Skyrim. Gah.

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MPOV

The tea was as cold as my pale, trembling fingers. The dingy brown liquid sloshed when Brian's leg accidentally nudged the table as he shifted in his favorite of the couple of white sofas we were seated in. His boot tapped a leg of the glass coffee table, and the china clinked with sounds of disgruntlement. Some of my tea dribbled down the floral design of my cup and pooled beneath it; there would be a coffee ring, and Brian's mother would throw a fit.

Swallowing, I reached forward for one of the linen cloths resting on the table, but Brian's hand snaked out and snatched my wrist before I could reach it. I froze, eyes locked on stilling tea in my cup. I wished it wasn't cold; I craved something to warm the chill under my skin.

"Max," Brian said. He leaned forward, trying to capture my eyes, but I didn't dare look up into their green depths. "This is natural. Just let it happen."

I squirmed, legs stirring beneath the soft linen of my skirt. "I—I'm just not sure if I'm ready for that yet."

Chuckling under his breath, he stood and, not letting go of my wrist, came over to sit beside me. "Don't tell me you haven't been wishing for this moment. We've been dating for nine months. It's only to be expected we go forward."

I stayed silent, feeling ice creep its steady way through me. Something was wrong. I didn't know what—I couldn't place it—but it wasn't right. I licked my chapped lips, trying to find words to utter, but failing. Brian let go of my wrist, my hand dropping limply in my lap. Cupping my chin delicately in his calloused hand, he titled my gaze up to meet his eyes.

"Please, sweetie. How else will I know for sure that you love me as much as I love you?" he asked, a crease pressing between his brows.

I melted immediately, just as he knew I would. "Okay." My voice piked up a bit at the end, nerves wiggling their way through, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. A big, tender kiss was placed on my lips.

When he pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you."

"Anything for you." My smile was much more tentative; my hands still trembled.

The next kiss was rougher, and it included those warm calloused hands pushing my shoulders back until I was lying beneath him, feeling smaller and weaker than the china resting on the table beside us. I kissed him back automatically, trying hard to shut off the tiny part of my brain restlessly screaming at me to stop. Brian was right. This was the only way I could show him how much I loved him. Maybe if he knew, the rumors of him getting tired of me would stop. Maybe he would stay with me, take me away from my mother and the abuse and give me a life worth living; a life of happiness.

Arms winding around his neck, I shut my mind off, ordered my hands to quit shaking, and allowed Brian's tongue entrance inside my mouth. I disconnected from my normal timid self as I kneaded my tongue against his. Brian was all I needed to be happy. This was okay. This was normal—_natural._

After a few minutes, my lips were bruised and Brian was impatient. He pulled back, sitting me up with him. His hands gripped the hem of my dress, and I shut my eyes, breath hitching. Without asking to make sure I was doing okay, he tugged the fabric off over my head, tossed it to the floor, and pushed me back onto the cushions. Robotically, I helped him with tugging off my tights, trying not to think too much about how bare I was about to be beneath him.

Tights gone, I lied there shivering as Brian stood to strip down to his boxer briefs. I blushed when I saw the bulge there, but the heat in my face immediately vanished with the look he gave me. Something was wrong. He didn't look the way he usually did.

There wasn't love in his eyes anymore when he got back on top of me, pressing himself up against me. His hands were greedy leeches, roaming and groping all over my body and sucking any inch of warmth that could have been left there. My throat felt tight; it was a struggle to breath. That voice in my head was back again, and it was screaming louder than ever before. When my bra was gone, and his hands were kneading a whole new set of bruises into the supple skin there, I couldn't take the sinking pit of my stomach anymore.

"Brian," I said, pushing meekly against his chest. "Can we stop? I changed my mind."

The response I got were his nails digging into my breast, drawing bloody crescents. I yelped, pain blooming larger the longer his hand stayed where it was.

"What are you doing? You're hurting me."

My voice was ignored as he scraped his nails down my stomach until he was facing my underwear. He began tearing at the fabric, trying to get it off, but my legs were flailing and I ended up kneeing him in the face. Seizing the opportunity, I rolled out from beneath him as he clutched at his nose. Immediately, I grabbed my dressed and tugged it over me, forgetting for a moment the bra and tights also lying in a rumpled heap on the floor. I shoved my feet inside the flats waiting for me under the table and made for the door.

Brian dove off the couch when he saw me leaving, but I jumped out of reach at the last second. His hand caught my dress, tearing the back of it, but I didn't stop to examine it. Spinning away from him scrambling to get off the ground, I tore open the door of the guest room and ran down the grand staircase. I stumbled at the bottom, smashing my hip against the marble, but my hand on the railing prevented me from falling the rest of the way down. Wincing, I forced myself up and limped the rest of the way to the front door. I shut it just as I heard Brian calling my name at the top of the stairs.

My keys were still in the ignition of my BMW—no one in Brian's neighborhood would ever want to steal the hunk of metal—so peeling out of the driveway took all of ten seconds. One glance to the rearview mirror showed Brian bursting from the home with just his jeans on and trying to chase after me, but the tears welling in my eyes clouded any words forming on his lips.

Only I didn't wake up to the sun shining down on the perfect course of action to take with Brian. Instead, I woke with fear already clenching the walls of my stomach together, making me feel lightheaded. There was something cool and rigged pressed against the hollow of my neck in the darkness, and I froze, trying to blink through the haze of sleep clouding my mind.

"One sound, one move, and this knife is cutting right into your throat," a pair of lips whispered, the owner's teeth nearly nipping the soft lobe of my ear. I knew who it was without even having to look: it was the same whisper that used to carry private 'I love you's to me during the most unexpected moments.

I parted my lips to ask what he was doing, but a prick from the keen blade at me throat stopped me. "_One_ sound," he warned.

I clenched my jaw tightly shut, feeling my muscles cord tightly together as fear shook through my hands. My window was open, allowing for the heat of the furnace to escape outside into the whirlwind of snow sprinkling down; a few stray flakes drifted down on my skin and hid beneath its surface, as if afraid to watch was to happen next.

"Are you going to be a good girl now?" Brian asked. I nodded carefully. "Excellent. Get up, you're coming with me. Don't want your mother waking up and interrupting us."

Keeping the knife pressed against my throat, he tugged me up by my arm and pushed me so that I started stumbling towards the door. I stepped out, trying to make as little noise as possible as I led us down the stairs to the front door, eyes glancing back to my sisters' rooms, doors tightly shut. For the love of God, I prayed with all my heart neither of them would open their door.

When I reached for my coat hanging on the rack beside the door, my hand was smacked away without a word of explanation. I looked down at my dad's old t-shirt and the pair of cotton sweats that were long enough to pool around the soles of my bare feet. "But, it's freezing outside."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be fine. Brought my wool coat. Keep moving." His knee came up, knocking me in the butt.

Trembling fingers reached up and mechanically unlocked the chilling metal barring the door shut. With a click, I yanked the door open and was immediately pushed outside. Snow filtered down and joined the chill already sunken into my bones as I was forced towards Brian's car, hidden amongst the shadows on the other side of the street. I glanced around, wishing someone was crazy enough to be up at this hour and see what was happening, but the street was as silent as my nightmares. Not a soul in the world to help. It had begun to seem as though I was born that way— eternally alone.

Brian paused outside his car, hand releasing my arm so he could fish around in his coat pocket for his car keys. In this moment, my heart mind stilled, just analyzing every detail around me. Each flake bloomed into hyper detail, and a numbness encased my skin. It was now or never.

In a flash, I back kicked, my foot landing right where the sun doesn't shine. The knife sliced a thin line at my throat as he was knocked backwards, but it wasn't nearly enough to worry about at the moment. I ran as if there was some sort of unseen promise further on, encased within the shadows, but waiting for me nonetheless and whispering of a better life away from everything—all the pain and danger cascading around me and painting me in different shades of suffocating red.

I jolted awake from the dreaming shivering. The balcony doors were tightly shut, curtains drawn and casting a shadow over the entire room. Heat could be heard blasting from the vent nearby, and my comforter was drenched in sweat, but I still couldn't stop the impossible feeling of being just _cold_. Tears raced down my cheeks, as if picking right up from where I left off the night before.

Sometimes I wished I was just never born.

* * *

FPOV

Silence had been part of my life since the day my dad got shot in the knee while on leave in Afghanistan. It would be a lie for me to say I was upset to see him with a permanent limp, because that limp also meant he was permanently out of the war. Captain Xavier was could no longer properly fight, and was therefore sent back home to start up a new, mundane life with his family.

I thought it was going to be a good thing, always going to sleep knowing my father was safe, just a few steps away. But I didn't know just how much of a large part the military played in his life. Shortly after his arrival at home, his mind began deteriorating. Estranged mood swings, verbal abuse, and a twilight relief in the sea of pills he poured into his palm every morning.

How many times did I come home to my mother sobbing as my father's voice boomed against the walls? How many times did I bend down to scoop up the bewitching blue pills pouring out of the small orange bottle slipping from my father's limp hand, his snores drifting up from his comatose position on the couch? How many times did I find Nudge and Gazzy huddled together in Iggy's room, waiting for one of us to come home because dad had mixed alcohol with his pills again and they were scared of making even one wrong step?

It took two years before I couldn't take watching him waste his life away anymore. I exploded on him, and before I knew it, the two of us were locked in a fist fight, my mother choking on her sobs and shouts in the corner of the kitchen as Nudge ran for a phone to call the police. After seeing him carelessly beat his own son into a bloody mess without even a moment's hesitation, I shut down. There was no need to speak anymore. I was done dealing with this man who had somehow become a stranger to all of us. I lost hope in happiness because where had it been my whole life? If I allowed myself to be open and express myself, I'd become something I didn't want: my father.

Silence became my resolve. Speaking was a trivial matter, something to fill the endless space that encompasses us in our everyday lives, but it wasn't _necessary_. People knew what I was getting at with the arch of an eyebrow, or the twitch of the lip, or the harness of my eyes. I was content with living without voicing the content of my thoughts, because for the past two years they have only contained anger and disdain and reservation.

But then something happened.

One day, my mother dragged me out of bed, forced me to put on something nice, then took all of us kids down to the house that hadn't been occupied for at least a year. A knock, and the door swung open, and showed me—_her._

Unruly caramel hair. Wide, curious brown eyes. Soft lips parted as if wanting to ask us a million questions, but unable to form even a single syllable. _She_ was a ray of sunshine, and she didn't even have to say a word.

So when she shut me out of her life just as suddenly as she appeared, the silence that I had lived in for the past two years suddenly seemed all too deafening. Where was the buzz of my phone? The silhouette of her waking form, stretching as she trotted to her morning shower? Those eyes that held more expression than a Shakespearian poem? Everything that had become the noise of my life, just suddenly gone without a moment's notice.

I had to assume God was punishing me in some way. For what, I didn't know, because I have literally done nothing but go to school and come home for the past years of my life, but I had no other idea as to why something as wonderful as Max was dangled in front of me before being yanked right back. Did I do something wrong? Offend her or scare her in some way?

Groaning, I buried my fists in my hair and shut my eyes tight.

_Max, Max, Max_.

I didn't know what drove her to shut me out all of a sudden, but I did know that I wasn't ready to give her up. No matter what, I would be here for her, just like I promised. Because there was something scaring her. I didn't know what yet, but I was determined to find out.

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**Now you guys know the backstories. Hopefully this clears some stuff up. **

**R&R if you want more FPOV(:**


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